


Timing Is Everything

by Sweet_Christabel



Category: Hustle
Genre: F/M, The whole crew is here!, background Danny/the cocktail waitress from Santa Monica, background Emma/Mickey, but I'm not going to tag everyone, that would be excessive, this story does not forget that Billy exists
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-06 12:05:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17939363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sweet_Christabel/pseuds/Sweet_Christabel
Summary: In life, as well as in grifting, timing was crucial. When feelings that had remained concealed for years are brought to the fore in the back of a limo in Hollywood, Stacie and Ash must learn to live with them, and figure out how to move forward in a job where complications between crew members could be disasterous. Will years apart change things? Will their time ever come?





	1. Part One

A/N: Hi. I've been a Hustle fan pretty much from the start. I've always shipped Stacie and Ash casually, but I did a re-watch recently and the bug really bit me this time around. This is the result! Hope there are still people in this fandom looking for more Stacie/Ash content.

This story starts from season four and ends with the final episode of season eight. Enjoy! Drop me a review if you're still here with this ship :)

I do not own Hustle or any dialogue you recognise.

***

**Part One.**

_2007._

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. It wasn’t supposed to happen at _all_. Colleagues were colleagues, and she’d never blurred the boundaries. Well, almost never. 

It wasn’t that she hadn’t noticed him… It had taken a while, but she _had_ noticed. Casually. It was difficult to ignore the fact that you were surrounded by attractive men on a daily basis. She’d noticed it with a healthy sense of detachment, feeling proud that she got to be escorted by four such fine examples of manhood. Albert, always so gallant and distinguished, then the younger three with their debonair confidence. Confidence was attractive, compelling. It was why they could do what they did, after all, but it was true on a more personal level too. 

She had been dazzled by Mickey once, long ago before they’d both reached the conclusion that they were better suited as friends. But no one, she thought, could blame themselves for being dazzled by Mickey. It was what he did best, and it had been entirely benevolent. Now they had a comfortable relationship, one that wrapped up their mutual attraction with the genuine warmth and respect, forming a friendship that they both relied on. She was not the woman for him, but if she admired the figure he cut in an expensive suit and he nodded approvingly at her fashion choices, well…they were only human. 

It had taken her longer to find even a semblance of similar ground with Danny. She was starting to think it might be possible, but it would take work. A lot of work. Particularly on his part. They were not well suited. He meant the world to her – as they all did – but not romantically. She trusted him with a lot; her life, her grifting reputation, she would even trust him with her money. But not her heart. He’d made too many flippant comments for that, even if she were so inclined to give it to him.

And then of course, there was…

“We, uh…we need to talk about this, don’t we?” 

The man himself, voicing the thoughts that she was purposely avoiding. 

She glanced at him, his anxious expression illuminated by the lights of the poolside bar as he joined her by the railing. She smiled at him, hoping it was a reassuring one. 

“After the con,” she agreed. “Let’s just…concentrate on what we need to do. I think we _all_ need to be focused right now. It’s not like this is one of Mickey’s plans.”

He huffed a small, quick laugh. “Yeah, tell me about it.” 

She laughed too, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“You all right, though?” he asked her, tone turning serious as he studied her a touch more intently than she would like. 

“I’m fine,” she promised him, her smile growing warmer at his concern. “ _We’re_ fine,” she added, guessing where his true apprehension lay.

He looked sceptical though, and she couldn’t blame him. They really did need to talk about it. But it was true that they also needed to focus. After all, selling the famed Hollywood sign was no easy undertaking, and things had been less than smooth so far. The last thing the group needed was drama between two of its number, particularly when they were down a leader. 

Danny joined them before the discussion could take any more serious turns, and talk shifted to the next stage of the con: where it _should_ be. Stacie and Ash focused too. They were nothing if not professional. 

* * *

“Shit,” Stacie said with feeling as Ash closed the motel door. 

“Shit,” he agreed, glancing back at her. 

A few moments of silence passed as they looked at each other, thinking. Then Stacie shrugged. 

“We’ll have to come up with something else,” she said. “Put it to the group.”

“What, plan C?” he said dubiously.

“Maybe.” 

Ash chuckled humourlessly, moving over to the window to peer out through the gap in the curtains. It wasn’t entirely unexpected that Anthony Westley would continue to make things difficult for them, but it was definitely unwelcome, especially considering that they were already in the middle of plan B. Not for the first time, Stacie questioned Danny’s judgement in trying to sell something as iconic as the Hollywood sign. It was competition with Mickey, pure and simple, but he hadn’t had to drag the rest of them into it too. 

Stacie followed Ash, halting in the middle of the room and folding her arms. “Is he gone?” 

“Yeah, I think so. We’ll leave it ten minutes just in case.”

She nodded her agreement, even as she wondered just how long the ten minutes would _feel_. 

“You know, you’ve got the most impeccable timing,” she spoke up. 

“Yeah, I know.” Ash shot her a cheeky grin over his shoulder, then sobered. “Why?” 

“I think he was going to try and kiss me.” 

Westley had come to the motel to make a bargain with her, after they’d foiled his attempt to blackmail Ash’s character directly. Stacie had thought it would be a straightforward matter, giving her a time and place to pick up the money, but then he’d gone and thrown in an additional complication, and flirted with her to boot. 

Ash pulled a face. “Don’t you just hate it when a mark does that?” 

“When they’re that sleazy, definitely.” 

Dropping into one of the uncomfortable chairs, she tugged a newspaper onto her lap, but couldn’t focus enough to read. Her thoughts should have been on the problem in hand, but they guiltily kept drifting back, despite her best intentions, and she inwardly sighed as she set herself up to relive the events _again_.

* * *

_Several days previously._

Stacie held the cheap corset up for inspection, managing not to wrinkle her nose. Tackier than she’d initially thought, but he’d got her size right at least. 

“Right,” Danny said, grinning as he sat forward on the limo seat. “Get changed, then pose up this end, all right?”

A heavy pause followed as Stacie and Ash simply stared at him. 

“I think I’ll be going,” Albert said decisively, escaping out the door and slamming it behind him. 

“What?” Danny asked, picking up on their moods. 

“Haven’t you got other things to be doing?” Stacie spoke up. 

“Like what?”

“Anything.”

“No,” Danny said firmly. “I need to take the pictures, don’t I?”

“No need,” Ash told him, his tone calm but inviting no argument. “Camera’s got a remote trigger. So we’ll be fine on our own. Best you get going.”

It was obvious that he _did_ have things to do, as he didn’t argue the point nearly as much as Stacie would have expected. With only a mild bit of grumbling, he climbed out of the limo, Ash close behind him. 

“Uh…what you doing?” Danny asked. “You need to be _in_ the pictures.”

“I’m giving Stacie her privacy,” Ash countered with blatant but well-deserved condescension. “You know, like a gentleman.”

Danny’s eyes widened slightly as he realised Ash had a point. “Oh…right.” 

Huffing, Ash turned to look back at where Stacie still sat with the outfit on her lap. “Give the window a knock when you’re ready, Stace, all right?”

She smiled at him, nodding, and he closed the door, muffling Danny’s next words. Awkward in the cramped space, (whoever would have thought she’d be calling a stretch-limo ‘cramped’?), she shimmied out of her clothes and into the lingerie Danny had so kindly purchased for her. The driver had thankfully gone to lunch, and all was silent outside. She saw Ash’s outline through the tinted windows, people-watching as he waited for her to finish up. 

Tugging a small mirror from her handbag, Stacie touched up her make-up, painting her eyes and lips bolder to fit in with her character’s profession. She was nervous, she realised, meeting her own gaze in the glass. It was…odd. She’d paired up with members of the team before, even posing as Albert’s trophy wife once. She’d even had fake sex with Danny for the benefit of Johnny Keyes, which had been strange but not nearly as awkward as this. There hadn’t been a trace of nervousness then. 

Granted, it had been a while since she’d played a partner to Ash. Certainly not since she started to notice…

_Don’t think about it, it’ll just make this harder._

Knowing she couldn’t delay any further, she shifted off her seat and knocked on the window. She saw Ash take a moment before opening the door, and it was strangely reassuring. He was nervous too. He slid onto the back seat, shutting the door behind him, and shot her a little smile. 

“So, uh…how much clothing do you think I should lose?” he asked casually. 

“As much as you feel comfortable losing,” she said with a shrug. “I’m still fully dressed…” She glanced down at her stockings and lace underwear, pulling a face. “Well, sort of. So whatever you decide, it will still look like things are…you know…”

“Just getting started?” he offered.

“Yeah.” 

He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair, before nodding. “Okay, let’s get on with it then.” 

She considered making a joke about how unflattering the statement was, but decided against it. She didn’t want him to think she was fishing for compliments. 

He kicked off his shoes and undid several buttons on his shirt, and she nodded in approval. It would still be an incriminating image, and a man wearing more clothes than a woman in an intimate situation hinted at a power imbalance that Anthony Westley would probably be familiar with. 

Stacie relocated to the back seat, allowing Ash to set up a small tripod for the camera. 

“If we have you on top,” she said, trying to keep her tone professional, “it will look like you have the upper hand, but we can get a few shots of me looking at the camera.”

“Like a nudge and a wink,” Ash added. 

“Exactly. I think Westley will appreciate that.”

“Yeah, well, he’d better.” 

When he’d thoroughly set up the camera, (probably more thoroughly than it really needed), he came to join her at the back of the limo. 

“Blimey, there’s less room than you’d think, isn’t there?” he said, eyeing the seat Stacie was perched on. 

“I know, but I think we can make it work.”

“Okay, how we gonna do this?” 

It took a lot of awkward manoeuvring, with a multitude of ‘sorry’s and accidental injuries, but finally they found a somewhat-comfortable position. Stacie bent her legs to allow Ash room on the seat, and he propped himself up on his hands to avoid squashing her. 

“Does that work?” he asked. 

“Uh…wait, if I lean up on my elbows, there’ll be more leg room,” she said, shifting. 

“Right, yeah.” 

“Oh god, sorry,” she exclaimed, almost hitting him on the nose with her forehead. 

“It’s fine.”

She nodded, then started giggling, feeling the unfamiliar strands of hysteria start to tug at her. “I’m sorry,” she said between laughs. “This is…so ridiculous.” 

He chuckled too, and she felt some of the tension drain away. “Yeah, isn’t it?” 

Stacie exhaled slowly, trying to regain a serious demeanour suitable to her character. “Okay, straight face.” 

“Ready?”

“Yes.” 

He buried his face in her hair and they took a few shots. Looking at the digital screen, Ash shook his head with a grim look. 

“It’s not going to work if we can’t see your face,” Stacie pointed out, reading his expression.

“No…” He looked at her thoughtfully before saying, “Uh…neck touches okay?” 

She couldn’t help but admire how casual he’d managed to make the question, and she nodded. “Yeah, fine.” 

She turned her face to the camera, feeling the warmth as he pressed his closed lips to her neck, and they snapped several more shots. Still, the images weren’t quite right. 

“Needs more,” Stacie said decisively. “Just…go for it.”

“Are you sure?”

She sent him a little smile, touched by how thoughtful and respectful he was being. “I trust you.” 

He nodded, returning the smile with a small quirk of his lips. 

“Wait,” Stacie cut in as he readied the remote trigger, hidden beside them. She lifted a hand to his head and halted. “May I?”

“Yeah, sure.” 

She lightly combed her fingers through his dark blond hair, saying matter-of-factly, “You look a bit too tidy.” 

“Oh, well we can’t ‘ave that.” 

“That’s better. Ready?”

“Yeah… Wait, do you want a cushion? You look… uncomfortable.” 

Her back was starting to ache, so she nodded. “Yeah, thanks.” 

He yanked the nearest one forward and settled it behind her. Practically sitting up now, she leaned back against it. 

“God, that’s so much better.” 

Ash checked the screen on the camera, adjusting the frame. “Yeah, that works well actually.” 

“Okay.”

“Ready?” he asked her again, slipping his arm around her waist.

“Ready.”

She looked full at the camera, doing her best sultry pout, and Ash brushed his lips against her cheek. 

“That was a good one,” she muttered, seeing the preview flash up on the screen. “It’s still a bit…tame, though.” 

“Tame?” she heard him murmur. “Bleedin’ ‘ell, Stace.” 

She felt bad for how awkward he was clearly feeling, but it had to look right. Westley had to believe that they had some serious dirt on Richard Hamilton. 

“I told you,” she said, biting her lip, “just…forget it’s me and…go for it.”

He made some quiet grumble, and she was going to say more, but then his lips were at her neck, open mouthed, and her words abandoned her. Almost without conscious thought she tilted her head back, and he took her invitation, moving his not-quite-kisses to the front of her neck. Stacie stifled a moan, cognizant of the situation even as part of her wanted to get lost in the fantasy. His hot breath tickled her skin and she silently gasped. His hand rested firmly on the right-hand side of her ribcage, his arm almost a full circle around her, pinning her to his chest. It felt wonderfully secure, safe almost, and she wasn’t sure how to process how it made her feel. 

Eyes closed, Ash turned his face towards the camera, still resting against her neck, and Stacie let her own eyelids drift shut. She suddenly felt far too hot in her skin, a bolt of awareness sizzling through her, reaching parts of her she’d been sure were completely safe from her colleagues. 

She was not so touched-starved that it didn’t matter who did the touching. It definitely did, and the fact that it was Ash… It wasn’t so surprising. As shallow as it sounded, the first time she’d seen him in a suit she’d had to admit to a teeny, harmless admiration. And now, to have him between her legs – albeit, fully clothed – and his lips on her neck…it was making her confront some truths she hadn’t wanted to confront. 

As the camera beeped and clicked, she became aware that their position and her state of dress were having an effect on him too. 

“I…oh god,” he muttered, backing away from her. “Sorry, Stace, it’s…”

“It’s okay,” she assured him, trying to smile as she struggled to breathe normally. “It’s a perfectly normal reaction.” 

“Yeah, but…” 

“Seriously, Ash, don’t worry about it. Please.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

She sat upright, pressing her knees firmly together, and Ash busied himself with the camera. She couldn’t see his face. No doubt, he intended it that way. 

“We should have enough shots,” he said, starting to dismantle the tripod. 

Stacie reached for her blouse, slipping it on over the corset. She’d get changed properly back at the hotel. It was difficult to wiggle into a pencil skirt in a hurry whilst in the back of a car, but she managed it. 

“I’ll, uh, get these printed out,” Ash was saying, pocketing the camera and tugging on his shoes. 

“Okay.” 

She shifted to the far side of the seat to let him open the door, and watched him climb out. He offered her a hand as she followed, and she waved him away, anxiously threading her hands through her hair. 

Unsure how to proceed, they simply stood, avoiding each other’s gaze. Stacie wanted to reassure him that it was fine, that she wasn’t offended, that she understood that sometimes the male anatomy had a mind of its own…that she could still feel the scorch mark of his mouth against her skin. But she said nothing. 

“You all right?” Ash said finally. 

Stacie met his wavering gaze, fiddling with a button on her blouse. “Yeah, yeah,” she bluffed, inwardly cringing as she heard the most unconvincing tone she’d ever used come out of her mouth. “You?”

“Yeah,” he said, equally unconvincing. “Yeah.” 

Their parting, mere seconds later, was the most awkward exchange they’d ever had, and Stacie felt her heart sink as she walked away from him. They had to mend things before it got too much and ruined the dynamic of the group, a dynamic that was already a little wonky for Mickey’s absence. 

They made the first step forward at the bar that night, and after that things were almost back to normal but for the underlying tension that had suddenly picked up between them. Stacie wondered if Ash could feel it too, or if it was only her who was mindful of a small but constant energy thrumming below their every interaction. Sometimes she thought she saw some awareness in his keen blue eyes, but she wasn’t sure if that was just wishful thinking. 

Sitting alone with him in a motel room was doing nothing for her nerves. 

“Probably safe to move out now,” Ash spoke up, breaking through her reverie. 

“Right,” she said, getting to her feet. “Good.” 

“Stace? You all right?”

She met his perceptive gaze and nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah. Just…I’ll be glad when this one is behind us, you know?”

His face fell a little, and she realised he’d jumped to the wrong conclusion, thinking she was talking about the limo incident. 

“It’s been like pulling teeth,” she added, attempting to set him straight as they stepped out the door. “And now we’re trying to pull off a plan B that we didn’t even have yesterday…”

“At least he came _up_ with a plan B,” Ash said with a shrug. “You gotta give him credit for that.”

“If we walk away clean from this one, I’ll give him all the praise he deserves,” Stacie assured him, leading the way to their stolen car. “But we’ve got a long way to go, as Albert would say. Now he’s got to find a plan _C_.” 

“Yeah,” he agreed, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Let’s go and tell the others, eh?”

She nodded, linking her arm with his, as she’d done dozens of times before. He seemed tenser than usual, but he didn’t pull away. That was something. 

* * *

Between actually pulling off selling the Hollywood sign, and returning to London and finding a new mark, Stacie and Ash realised that everything was, in fact, okay. They still hadn’t really talked about the limo, but both had glossed over it enough to get by without the conversation. On the surface, everything was just as it was. Underneath, Stacie was having serious concerns about her sanity. 

Memories kept plaguing her, bringing thoughts to the forefront of her mind that she had happily left unacknowledged at the back. When she’d told Danny that she didn’t get involved with people she worked with, she hadn’t simply been brushing him off. It had been true, and it was true for a very good reason. Hooking up left complications, and she didn’t want to ruin a good thing. 

It was a sound, logical argument, but god, was it making things difficult for her. Fortunately, her role in their most recent con was minimal, only calling for her to play Ash’s assistant while they sold a sleazebag a horse.

When they sent Ash off to be ‘convinced’ to sign the mark’s contract, there was no doubt what he’d have to do. Not when the mark in question was in the adult video business. Stacie tried not to care, and almost succeeded. But then Ash made an uncharacteristic error with the contract, which threw them into plan B territory _again_ , and to top it off they ran into Dickie Brennan’s two favourite girls at the horse race that was meant to secure their payment. From the glances exchanged, it was clear that Ash and the girls had some connection. 

Stacie squashed down the niggling sour feeling in her stomach and countered it by teasing him.

“You know, it really wasn’t like you to make a mistake with the contract,” she said pointedly. “I’m beginning to think that maybe you were distracted.” 

“I don’t know what you mean,” Ash replied, glancing away from her. 

“And you never really did say exactly what happened that night. How _exactly_ they convinced you to sign.” Even to her own ears, it sounded like she was trying too hard. Her words were coming out spiky and nagging. She turned to look at him, all hunched up in his seat as if that would shield him from view, and attempted to turn it into a joke. “Did you have to work very, very hard?” she asked with mocking sweetness. 

“Look, can we just concentrate on the matter in ‘and?” he said, looking increasingly fidgety. 

“Oh, struck a nerve, did I?” 

She inwardly winced. Sometimes the bitchy comments just flew out of her mouth before she had time to temper them. 

“No, no,” he protested at once, “I just think we should go and watch the race, that’s all.” 

She forced a smile, adopting a playful tone of disapproval. “Three Socks Morgan,” she chided, hiding her expression behind her cup as she took a sip of her drink. 

He glanced at her, a hint of challenge in his mischievous smile. His smiles had always been rather infectious, and she felt her expression softening too. She prodded his arm, hoping he would take her words as teasing and not as what they really were. But then he looked away and waved at the girls. 

Stacie nearly spilt her drink when they waved back, and she glanced away, managing to swallow. She felt…what _did_ she feel? Jealousy? She glanced down at the grass, not liking the cold, possessive feeling. It was one of her most-hated faults, jealousy. It always turned her into an icy bitch, made her do things she later regretted, and she’d been working hard to master it. She’d _thought_ she’d been making progress, but now…

_It was for the con_ , she reminded herself. _He owes you nothing._

In her peripheral vision, she saw him lean forward to peer anxiously at her, and made the mistake of shooting him a sidelong glance. In an instant, she saw him read her face more astutely than she liked. His smile dropped, an almost-sheepish look replacing it. 

“Well, actually,” he said quietly, scooting forward to better catch her ear. “It didn’t _quite_ go as Dickie planned.” 

Interest piqued, she gave him her full attention. “What do you mean?”

“Look, I _was_ distracted that night, but not how you think.” He glanced down at his clasped hands, then back up at her. “I…concentrated too much on my story, missed the details in the contract.”

“Story? What story?”

“Well, when the girls took me upstairs…I…came out.”

She stared at him, unsure if she’d grasped his meaning. “Came out as in…”

“As in,” he said uncomfortably, “they think that Paul Marchant is firmly in the closet, too scared to come out publicly for fear of not being accepted.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh,” she said articulately. 

“I spun ‘em a sob story about how I was head over heels for someone I couldn’t ‘ave, borrowed a few hankies, then after that we were best mates. I swore them to secrecy. They were really sweet, actually. Kept telling me I should just go for it, tell this person how I felt about them.” 

Stacie swallowed, working her dry mouth. There was no strand of truth in the tale. There couldn’t be. He’d made it all up. 

“And Dickie Brennan…” she asked, finding words. 

“Thinks what you all thought. It seemed easier.”

“So why did you lie?”

“I didn’t lie. You all assumed and I let you.”

“Why go to the trouble of finding a sob story?”

He sighed, shrugging. “Look, Stace, there aren’t many things I won’t do if someone in this group asks me to, but sleeping with people I don’t want to sleep with happens to be one of them.” 

“Yes, but…sleeping with porn stars?” Stacie commented with a shrug of her own. “Pretty sure that’s on Danny’s bucket list.” 

Ash snorted, and she was glad to see his smile return.

“Yeah, I reckon so. Maybe next time.” 

Stacie checked the time, and they got to their feet. The race was almost due to start, and she had a little bet to place. 

“You weren’t jealous, were you?” Ash asked her casually as they walked. 

Stacie felt her cheeks flush, and she looked away. “Course not,” she answered. She made herself glance back at him, and her heart jolted as she saw his sharp eyes analyse her masked expression. In that instant, she knew he’d seen that there was more truth behind his light comment than he’d intended. She hurried to add more. “I just want to make sure that the people you…spend time with…treat you right.” 

“Right,” he said, not even bothering to hide how unconvinced he was. 

“Shall we go and watch a horse race?” Stacie asked after a few seconds of silence. 

“Yeah. Just let me place a bet first.” 

“You too?”

“Well, it’s too good to pass up, innit?”

* * *

Ash and Stacie had the roof terrace to themselves. Everyone else had retreated back to the warmth of the apartment. Granted, it was probably a wise decision. It was a chilly day, and it got windy up there, but it was the only place they could find privacy. 

It had been a difficult day from a business point of view, and an even worse one emotionally. They’d spent an afternoon terrorised into submission by pieces of so-called poisonous fish, which had, of course, turned out to be completely safe. They’d lost money, the mark had lost money, and they were firmly in Eddie’s bad books. The only plus side to the thieves being so thorough was that the mark wasn’t blaming them for the loss. 

“You all right?” Ash asked the silent Stacie at his side. He seemed to be asking her that an awful lot these days. 

“I’m fine,” she replied, blinking a little as she broke away from whatever far away thoughts she’d been lost in. “Just…still trying to figure it all out.” 

He nodded, glancing over at the door to make sure they were still alone. “I, uh…wanted to say sorry.” 

She sent him a puzzled look, the breeze sending strands of dark hair dancing across her face. She impatiently brushed them back. “For what?”

“For making you believe I was dead.”

Her eyes widened a touch, and she glanced down at her lap, leaning forward. “Don’t,” she said. “Don’t apologise. It was a smart move, and you were just protecting the rest of us. I…guessed that was what you were doing, but…god, you made it seem so real, for a second there I…I sort of fell for it too.” 

He knew she had. Her tears had been real, falling hot on his face as she hid them both in a curtain of dark hair and kissed his cheek. Her distress had been so sobering. Somehow, he hadn’t thought she cared quite _that_ much, although he wasn’t sure why. It was obvious she cared about all of them, gliding through the group distributing cheek-kisses like favours. Ash received fewer than the others, a fact he hadn’t ever wanted to think too hard about, but now that she’d kissed him in sorrow – however short-lived – he wasn’t sure he could bear for her to do it again. 

He had reassured her as quickly as possible once he’d realised the young Japanese man wasn’t buying it, but it had left them both a little shaken, despite their skill in hiding it. 

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I know. I didn’t want to put you through that, Stace. That’s what I’m sorry for.” 

She shrugged off his concern, although she kept her arms folded around her middle. “It’s okay. We’re all fine. Yes, we’re out of pocket, but Albie can get us a new mark. What matters is that we’re all okay and Eddie’s okay.” 

Ash nodded his agreement. “Well, I guess I can add ‘Be threatened by a Samurai’ to my list of things I never thought I’d do.” 

Stacie managed a laugh, but it ended quickly. She was still troubled. He could see it clear as day, particularly when she lifted her beautiful dark eyes to his. 

“Ash,” she began in a solemn tone, “I don’t ever want to see you die again, be it fake or otherwise.”

“I know, darling,” he said, rubbing her back in what he hoped was a reassuring way. “I’ll try my best.” 

* * *

“Think you’ll be adding ‘Get hunted by the mafia’ to your list of things you never thought you’d do?” Stacie asked, her tone deceptively light. 

Ash nodded and shrugged. “Yeah, might as well take something away from the experience.”

“Um, excuse me,” Danny cut in, “but did I or did I not get us a big pile of money?” 

“And a big pile of trouble,” Stacie added. 

“Which we are now out of,” Danny countered. 

“I’ll give you that,” Ash conceded graciously. 

“Thank you.” 

Albert cleared his throat emphatically. “Ahem, I believe it was me who got us away. And back to land.” 

After watching the boat that the mark thought they were on explode, their little inflatable dingy had drifted too far out to sea for comfort. With no land in sight and the dingy taking on water, it had been touch and go for a while. Danny spent a lot of time declaring that he had plans without actually explaining what any of them were, and in the end Albert put him out of his misery by revealing that his old friend would be back for them. After ensuring that Johnny Maranzano was safely on his way back to Vegas, of course. 

“Yes, thank you, Albie,” Stacie said, patting Albert’s good hand. 

The five of them were in their fourth car of the day, driving overnight to Seattle, where they would finally fly home. Billy was taking his turn behind the wheel, Danny in the passenger seat with the bag of money. Stacie, Ash and Albert were doing their best with the cramped conditions in the back seat. 

Things finally fell silent when Albert and Danny drifted off. Ash had his eyes closed, but Stacie could tell he wasn’t asleep yet, lacking the steady deep breaths that gave the other two away. 

“You did amazingly on this one,” she said quietly, in case he was too far into snoozing to answer. 

He cracked one eye and shot her a grateful smile. “Yeah, I did, didn’t I?”

“I’m starting to think no demand is too much for you,” she teased him. 

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” he replied at once, and she sensed there was a strand of solemnity behind the words. “But thanks,” he added, nudging her arm with his elbow. “Try and get some sleep, eh? It’s been a hard day for all of us.” 

“No headrest in the middle seat,” she pointed out. “But that’s okay. I’ll keep Billy company.” 

“Well, there’s a shoulder here if you want it,” Ash offered offhandedly, not quite managing to meet her eye. “Not sure Albert would appreciate you leaning on him.”

Stacie glanced at Albert’s peacefully-sleeping form to her right and smiled. “No, he definitely wouldn’t.” 

“Well, just…lean on me then. If you’re tired, I mean. If you want to.”

She turned her smile towards him and was glad to see it returned, however hesitantly. “Thanks, Ash.”

He nodded, shutting his eyes again, arms folded and right-hand shoulder inviting. She didn’t move, though, biting her lip and taking a moment to think. In the rear-view mirror, Billy met her gaze and winked, his cheeky grin indicating something she didn’t want to acknowledge. 

_The kid is more perceptive than any of us gave him credit for,_ she thought. 

She stifled a yawn, gingerly shifting in her seat until her head rested on Ash’s shoulder. It was much more comfortable than sitting bolt upright, although she could feel that he was tense. She inhaled the earthy scent of his leather jacket, and the familiar aftershave that underlined it, feeling herself relax. After a while, he relaxed too, and they both drifted off to sleep as the car sped them further away from the people they hoped never to cross again.


	2. Part Two

**Part Two.**

_2009._

Safely back in London, the crew picked up where they’d left off, doing what they did best. Since Eddie’s friend’s boss was finally back from Dubai, they’d found themselves a suite in a less-prestigious but still-swanky hotel. Fortunately, their CCTV pictures from the Lexington hadn’t made it there, but they still sent Billy to the front desk, just in case. 

Mickey kept in regular contact, explaining that he was staying in Australia for the foreseeable future. It seemed it wasn’t enough for him to sell the Sydney Opera House once when he could get away with selling it five or six times. To everyone’s surprise, Danny appeared to have lost interest in competing with Mickey, concentrating on simpler cons that didn’t involve the mafia or any famous landmarks. In a private conversation, Stacie, Ash and Albert had concluded that the incident with Maranzano had taught Danny a valuable lesson, one that looked likely to stick for a while. His main focus was keeping them all out of prison, where it should be. 

The group evolved together, as groups do. Billy thrived under their tutelage, and Danny seemed all the better for taking a mentor role, but after a year and a half of successful cons, a restlessness settled over the crew. Mostly it stemmed from Danny, but Billy seemed to feel it too. It came as no surprise when Danny announced to them all that he was thinking of going back to America. 

“I’m fed up of all these piss-easy marks,” he announced over breakfast one morning, gesturing with a piece of toast. “What’s ‘appened to the crooks in London? How am I s’posed to develop my genius in these conditions?”

“Blimey, ‘ere we go,” Ash muttered, making Stacie and Billy snigger. 

“So, listen up, gang,” Danny went on, pausing for dramatic emphasis. “I propose that we relocate to the United States of America,” he announced, slipping into a bad drawl for the last four words. “Whaddaya say?”

Silence floated back to him, then Billy cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah, count me in. I go where you go, boss.” 

“Great, thank you, Billy. What about the rest of you?”

“You can’t expect us to make a decision like that right away,” Stacie scolded him, curling her hands around her tea cup. 

“Why not?”

“Because you can’t! Besides, we’re in the middle of a con.” 

Danny shrugged one shoulder. “Well, yeah, obviously we’ll finish that first.”

“So we’ll tell you when it’s over,” Stacie said firmly. “That gives us until the end of the week to think about it.”

“That’s not unreasonable, Daniel,” said Albert sagely, pushing his glasses up to the bridge of his nose as he looked up from his newspaper. 

“Yeah, Albert’s right,” Ash spoke up, seemingly not feeling the need to contribute more to the conversation. 

Danny sighed heavily, but nodded. “Fine. End of the week then. Right, Stace, time to get going.”

Stacie stared at him over her tea. “It’s just shopping, Danny, I’ve got time to finish my breakfast.”

“Okay, just make sure you get the right dress, yeah? You need to look sophisticated but…you know…accessible.”

“Accessible?” Stacie repeated, fixing him with a Look. 

“She’s not a bleedin’ tourist attraction,” Ash snapped gruffly. 

“No,” Stacie cut in, raising a finger as Danny opened his mouth, undoubtedly to spout some poor joke, “don’t even go there. I’m going now.” Downing the rest of her tea, she left the table and picked up her handbag. 

Later that evening, dolled up in the slinky cocktail dress she’d bought that morning, Stacie walked towards a party with Danny and the mark, Kevin Winters. They were rehashing the same con they’d used to sell the Hollywood sign, albeit on a smaller scale, planning on taking Winters for two-hundred grand in exchange for a building they didn’t own. Once again Ash was playing the man who’d deal with the sealed bids, and once again Stacie was there to give them a bargaining chip. Having worked out early on that Winters was a control freak, Danny had decided to keep him fully involved in blackmailing Ash. That was in order to keep him from hiring a private investigator behind their backs, who would no doubt discover what was really going on. If he double crossed them as Anthony Westley had done, they already had a plan B in place. 

“Right,” Danny said to her in character. “Find Henry Jones, cosy up to him, and we’ll take the photos.”

“Which one is he?” Stacie asked, peering through the glass doors of the venue they were gate-crashing. 

“Over there,” Winters told her helpfully, “in black with the white tie.”

She spotted Ash seated in a booth, nursing a glass of champagne. He was already playing tipsy well, and was dutifully staring longingly at every female form that walked past. Stacie hid her smirk. 

“Okay, give me a few minutes,” she said. “And stay out of sight, for god’s sake.” 

Adjusting her dress, she entered the party, and Ash stared at her with incredulous eyes. For the benefit of the mark, of course, but she still felt flattered by his expression. She sauntered over, smiling. 

“Hello,” she said. “Are they watching?”

“Like hawks,” he replied, kissing the hand she offered and gesturing to the seat beside him. 

“This is awkward,” she commented. 

“Yeah, I know, but he would never settle for just seeing photos that _we_ took.”

“I know, but still. This is an awful lot of play-acting for blackmail that isn’t going to happen.”

Ash sent her a predatory smile that didn’t match his light tone. “Could be worse. Care to dance?”

“I would love to,” she said, finding she meant it. Their movements were all pre-planned, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy it. 

Ash led her in a clumsy sway that had her biting back giggles. If she hadn’t known better, she might have thought he truly had drunk a few too many. Still, the music was good, and it was rather nice to dance with someone she cared so much about. It was a darn sight better than dancing with marks, that was for sure. 

“Winters has his camera out,” Ash murmured, leaning close to her ear to disguise the words. “Sorry, but I’m gonna have to get handsy.” 

“That’s okay.” 

He drew her closer, and she felt his warm palms trail a path down to the curve of her backside. She closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath. It was driving her crazy, jumping from the false closeness during cons to the very real distance back home. It had been almost two years since the incident in the limo in Hollywood had given her feelings a push, and ever since then Stacie had felt herself steadily falling further. Fortunately, she was a consummate professional, not to mention a damned good actress. 

“Okay,” she spoke up, pleased to hear that her voice was calm and level. “Now rotate us so I can pull a face at Winters.”

Ash chuckled softly and did as she asked, making it look like part of their dance. Spotting the boys taking cover behind a large pot plant, she slipped into character and sent them an exasperated look. Winters waved at her significantly. 

“They want me to go over,” she murmured, hiding the lower part of her face behind Ash’s shoulder. 

“Okay. We’ll head back to the booth and you can meet them at the bar.”

After the song had ended, Ash pulled her by the hand back to his chosen seat, downing the rest of his champagne before dropping heavily to the cushioned bench. Stacie looked at him with raised eyebrows. 

“Oh please,” he said. “You know it takes more than that.”

She smirked and took his empty glass. “Refill?”

“Henry Jones definitely accepts.” He sent her another character-smile, one she would have found creepy had it been from anyone else, and topped it off with a wink. 

She resisted the urge to shake her head fondly. “Should I be worried that you play lascivious so well?” she asked. 

“Probably.” 

Tempering her grin, Stacie spun on her Louboutin heel and sashayed to the bar. “Two glasses of champagne, please.” 

Winters casually leaned next to her, Danny beside him in his slightly-nervous persona. 

“Got what you needed?” she asked. 

“Almost, but it’s not enough.”

She turned her head slightly to glare at him. “What do you mean it’s not enough? He was all over me.”

“Yes, but we need indisputable proof of infidelity,” Winters told her, and she wanted to slap the snooty tone of voice right out of him. “Any man would dance like that with a girl like you. We need more.”

“Surely what we have will be enough to upset his wife,” Danny started to say. 

“Quiet, Dave, let me handle this.”

Danny fell silent, clearly reluctantly. Winters leaned a little closer to her, although thankfully not too far, no doubt wary of attracting the attention of Henry Jones. 

“I need at least one good shot of you kissing at the very least,” he said, and Stacie felt her stomach flip. 

“You never said I’d have to do that,” she argued. 

“It’ll be worth it,” Winters said in his best persuasive tone. “Think of the money, Jenny. We get the right evidence, we can make this bastard do whatever we want.” 

She glanced past him at Danny. She knew what she would do, of course, but she was curious as to his thoughts. He looked disgruntled but determined, so she wasn’t surprised when he gave a tiny nod. 

“Fine,” she said with a huff, accepting the two glasses from the barman. “But make sure you’re out of here when you get the shots. He’ll probably want to head to a room, and I don’t want you anywhere near me when I give him the slip or he might see you and get suspicious.” 

“Oh trust me, sweetheart,” Winters scoffed, “we don’t want to watch _that_ any longer than necessary.” 

Inwardly bristling at the nickname, Stacie seized the glasses and walked back to the booth. She handed one to Ash and took a sip from her own. 

“I’m going to sit on your lap,” she told him quietly, “don’t panic.” 

His eyes widened briefly, but his hand came up to rest on her leg as she perched sideways across his knees. 

“He wants kissing,” she informed him bluntly, feeling her cheeks get a little hot. 

“You what?”

“Jenny and Henry Jones,” she specified, playing with his tie. 

His face was relaxed, smiling, but she could see the concern in his eyes. He was always so protective of her, ensuring she wasn’t put in situations she didn’t want to be in, all the while knowing full well that she wouldn’t allow herself to end up in those situations in the first place. 

She set both champagne glasses on the table and gave him her full attention. “Winters won’t leave until he gets his money shot – literally,” she said, running her hand up along his lapel. “So just…close your eyes, imagine whoever you want.”

“You said that before,” Ash interrupted her, his voice carrying a frown even as his expression remained in character. “In the limo. ‘Forget it’s me’.” 

Stacie was taken aback. He never spoke about that. Ever. And to bring it up now, of all times…

“Did I?” she said, clearing her dry throat. 

“Yeah. And now again…” He seemed to run out of words, unable to finish the thought in his head. 

“Wh…what are you trying to say, Ash?” 

“I’m just trying to understand…why you think I – anyone – would want to forget it’s you.” 

Her mouth fell open and she blinked in surprise. Vaguely she knew that the expression was all hers and not Jenny’s, but thankfully she had her back to Winters and his camera. 

“I…I just assumed…” she began, faltering in a way that was very unlike her. “I was just trying to make it easier.” 

“Nothing about this is easy,” Ash said gravely. “It never ‘as been.”

“No,” she agreed. 

His hands were warm on her leg and the small of her back, and there was a spark of something in his impossibly blue eyes that made her breath catch in her throat. 

“It could never be anyone but you, Stace,” he murmured, so quietly she barely heard it. 

When she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his, Stacie was worryingly hazy about whether it was Jenny’s move or her own. She lingered a few seconds, giving Winters plenty of time to take his photos, then pulled back. 

Ash moved a hand up to brush her cheek, sweeping her hair behind her ear. He cupped the back of her neck, drawing her close again and kissing her deeply. Stacie moaned softly, hearing it get mercifully lost in the music, and twined her arms around his neck. By the time they broke apart, she was even more unsure if she’d been kissing Ash or Henry. He looked just as uncertain, a little worried cleft appearing between his eyebrows as he casually glanced over at where Winters and Danny had been concealed. 

“They’re gone,” he reported. 

Stacie nodded, catching her breath. “Well, he got what he wanted,” she commented levelly. 

“Yeah.” There was a pause, then Ash spoke up awkwardly, “Uh, Stace? Could you get off me? I need to, uh…readjust.” 

“Oh,” she said, blushing as she moved off his lap and perched on the edge of the bench. “Sorry.” 

She saw him shift uncomfortably in her peripheral vision, and she bit her lip. They had strayed into murky territory, and it would have consequences. She knew that for sure, and from the way he was avoiding her gaze, Ash knew it too. She had to speak up now, before it dragged on and got worse. 

“Ash?”

“Yeah?”

“I know you feel like you want to apologise. I know you.”

“I didn’t mean to…” he began. 

“No,” she cut him off softly, reaching out to grasp his chin and make him look at her. “Don’t. Please. I…I wanted to.” 

There, it was spoken. A truth she’d kept carefully concealed for years, free just like that. She felt giddy, anchored by the dread of uncertainty.

He looked baffled, but there was also a strand of resignation in his expression. “Stace,” he said softly. “You could have anyone.”

“Maybe,” she agreed, because there would always be someone who wanted a leggy brunette. She wanted someone who knew her heart, wanted her for her magnificent mind. Specifically, someone who was kind and whip-smart, wore a suit well, and had piercing blue eyes. “But I don’t want just anyone, I want…”

“Don’t,” he interrupted swiftly. He got to his feet, graciously offering her a hand. She gave it, and he tucked it in the crook of his elbow and led the way out of the party. Outside, the night air was refreshingly cool. They strolled along the south bank, seemingly in no hurry to return to the hotel. 

“We need to talk, Stacie,” Ash said at last.

Her heart sank. He rarely used her actual name, preferring the one-syllable shortened version. She strongly suspected that she was on the verge of getting her heart broken by the only man she’d trust it to.

“Don’t,” she said hurriedly. “Don’t say anything if you’re going to reject me. If I don’t get to finish my sentence, then you don’t need to answer a question that never got asked.”

“Look, I wasn’t exactly…” He trailed off and let out a sigh of frustration. “It’s not that…”

A sudden fear swamped Stacie, drenching her in cold water. Maybe she’d been wrong. Maybe she’d been misreading him the whole time. 

“Oh god,” she muttered, pulling her hand away to cover her mouth. “Ash, I’m sorry. I thought… You don’t feel that way about me at all, do you? Shit, I…”

“No, no, no, stop there.” He halted walking, reaching out to clutch her bare shoulders. His face was as serious as she’d ever seen it, and his eyes bore into hers, almost willing her to understand him. “You’ve got it all wrong. Stace…I care…very much for you. I got carried away back there because…” He inhaled sharply and continued. “Because I wanted to too.” 

She fixed him with a frown. “Then why…”

“It would change everything,” he said, the cold, hard truth. “And if we’re gonna do that, we need to be sure.”

“I _am_ sure,” Stacie told him firmly. 

“Are you, though?” he asked her, voice gentle. “Think about it, Stace, we live and work in each other’s pockets. It’s easy to get caught up in people in that scenario. How do we know…how do we know it’s real when we spend our lives pretending?” 

She faltered, hearing the logic in his words and hating that she understood where he was coming from. Their bond, the bond of the group, was too important to jeopardise. 

“What do you suggest?” she asked him, defeated.

Ash let go of her, sending her a tiny smile. “Danny wants to go to America. Maybe you should go with him. I’ve already decided to stay. For June, y’know.”

Stacie gawped at him, folding her arms. “That would split up the crew.”

“I know, but maybe it’s for the best. I…think we need some time apart, to figure this thing out. You know it’s been there a while…”

Since the limo, and maybe even before that. 

“You know we all love you, Stace,” he added, “one way or another.”

“And you need to know exactly what that means,” she finished for him. 

“Yes,” he said with a nod. “And so do you.”

Damn it, he was right. The knowledge settled heavily on her, like a weighted blanket across her shoulders. 

“Bit drastic to send me out of the country, though,” she said, making a poor attempt at humour. 

Ash huffed a brief laugh, stepping forward and enveloping her in a hug. Stacie wrapped her arms around him, seeking comfort in the warmth of his embrace. 

“All change ahead, then,” she stated, still trying to get used to the idea. She didn’t hate the thought of seeking new challenges abroad, just the part where they’d be leaving Ash behind. 

“Nothing lasts forever,” he reminded her with sober wisdom. 

It was true, but not the only option. “Some things do,” she countered. 

Fine. She would go, give him the time he seemed to need, and she’d spend every moment they were apart proving to herself – and him – that she loved him. And then…she would be back.


	3. Part Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Some of the phone calls between Ash and Stacie during their time apart. Lots of references to events from seasons 5-8.

**Part Three.**

_2009._

Ash knew June was having one of her more lucid days when she fixed him with an unnervingly knowing look as soon as he entered her room. 

“If you’re gonna lecture me, please don’t,” he said, dropping heavily into the chair by the side of her bed. 

“Oi,” she protested, peering at him over the top of her neck brace. “Who’s the one with the brain damage?”

Her tone drew a smile to his face, despite everything. “You are,” he humoured her.

“Exactly. So don’t tell me what to do.” 

He chuckled, then let out a sigh. “All right, then. Hit me with it.”

“You sent her away, didn’t you?” 

Ash sighed again, a softer, less theatrical sigh. “It’s for the best.” 

“Ash Morgan,” June scolded him. “How long ago was it that I took one look at you and said you were in love with that girl?”

He smiled at her frankness, one of the things he’d always liked most about her. 

“It was your second visit here,” she answered for him. “Two weeks after the accident.”

“Six years ago,” he added. 

“Right. I may not remember what I did yesterday, but I do remember that. And how long since I told you she had feelings for you?” 

“About four years ago?” he said nonchalantly, remembering the conversation well. It had taken place after Stacie had joined him on a visit. “You _do_ remember that I didn’t believe you?”

June stared at him from her position of authority, propped up against her pillows. “Ah, details. I knew you would eventually, when Stacie persuaded you. Ever since then, I’ve seen you smile more than you have in years,” she told him, an edge of wistfulness in her voice. “It was nice to see. I wanted that for you after everything you’ve done for me.”

“June…”

“Let me finish. I want to get this out before I get hazy again. It’s important.”

Chastened, he nodded, letting her continue. 

“Now…you’re smiling still, but…it’s not the same. You sent her away because you’re scared.” 

Ash shifted in his seat, finding June’s forthrightness less endearing when it put him under the spotlight. 

“It’s not that,” he argued. “You and I…we got lucky. Yes, our marriage didn’t work out, but our friendship did. Look at the others. Albert lost the love of his life years ago. Mickey and Rachel…you know how _that_ ended. Stacie and Jake, don’t even get me started.”

“You’re not like Jake,” June stated. “You’d never treat her how that little toe-rag did.”

“No, of course not, but that’s not the point.”

“So what _is_ the point, Ash? What are you trying to prove?”

He hadn’t intended to be honest. Not because of the habits of his profession, but because it made him feel exposed. Under her clear gaze, however, the truth spilled out. 

“I need to know she means it,” he said quickly, feeling guilty at doubting Stacie when the obstacles were probably of his own making. “You said it yourself, six years. Six years, June, and I’ve not been able to get her out of my head.”

“You’re feeling vulnerable,” June said, hitting the nail on the head as usual. “That’s normal, Ash. Especially in our line of work. Stacie wouldn’t mess with you.”

“Not on purpose, no. But what if she thinks she feels more than she really does?”

“I see,” she mused, sounding as if she really did. “Time apart will prove it’s real.”

“Exactly.” 

A little smile graced her face. “Which would be scarier? If she really loves you or if she doesn’t?”

Ash exhaled, sitting straighter in his seat. “Blimey, don’t sugar coat it, will you?”

June grinned. “I don’t have time for that. Just answer the question.”

“I don’t know,” he replied truthfully. “It’s felt like a one-sided thing for so long…”

“It’s not,” she declared with confidence. “She’ll be back, Ash. I promise you.”

He smiled at her, although he knew she’d see through it. “We’ll see, eh?”

“We’ll see that I’m right.”

Ash felt his smile grow a touch more genuine. He clasped her hand in both of his and planted a kiss on the back of it. “Well, you’ve been right about a lot of things. Who am I to doubt you?”

“Good. Now go and call her.”

He shook his head at once. “No. She only left last week. If we’re going to have time apart, we need to…y’know…have time apart.” 

“Not too much, though,” June said, a note of warning beneath her words. “I don’t have to spout a cautionary tale about wasting time, do I?”

They both knew that, for him, she was already a cautionary tale. She was the reason why he rarely chanced the Flop anymore, a potential glimpse into his future if he damaged his fractured skull further. He knew her intention hadn’t been to raise _that_ melancholy topic, though. 

He chuckled, releasing her hand. “Not today.” 

* * *

_2009._

“Hello?” Stacie’s voice was hesitant, cautious.

Maybe June was wrong and he shouldn’t be calling. Maybe it went against the point of their separation, but he’d never really been one for rules. And it had been a bloody long three months. “Hello, it’s me.” 

“Ash!” Her tone changed immediately to one of brightness and warmth, and he smiled widely. God, he’d missed her. 

“How are you, darling?” 

“Still prison-free,” she replied lightly. “You?”

“Not bad,” he answered casually, gazing out of his bedroom window at London spread out beneath his feet. “I’m in the penthouse of a five-star hotel.”

“Oh, very nice. I’m hiding in the back seat of a car. Can’t let the mark see me yet.”

He chuckled. “Danny working his magic?”

“Actually he’s let Billy take the lead on this one.”

“How’s that working out?”

“Really well. He’s learned a lot. What are you working on?”

Ash smiled to hear her. It was nice, just chatting. He’d missed it. “Well, actually I’m working with Mickey.”

Stacie’s voice lit up. “He’s back? He never said! Honestly, the man could call once in a while, we’re supposed to be friends.”

“Want me to remind him?”

“No,” she said, surprising him. “I’d rather just talk to you for now. Besides, if he doesn’t think to call me of his own volition, he obviously doesn’t want to talk.”

There was only amusement in her voice, no bitterness. He was glad to hear it. She and Mickey were close. If they’d been teenagers, he’d be tempted to call them best friends. Best friends could go years between speaking to each other and just pick up where they left off. 

“Well, to be fair he is a bit…distracted,” Ash said. 

“Tough mark?”

“New team.”

“Oh.” She sounded intrigued. “Girl?”

He laughed. She always jumped to the right conclusion. “How did you guess?” 

“Don’t tell me Mickey’s met his match!”

“You know what? I think he might ‘ave.” 

* * *

_2010._

“You’ll never guess who we just helped out.”

Stacie grinned, tucking her hair behind her ear with her free hand. “Who?”

“Liability Finch.”

“No! Is he still working?”

“Unfortunately. Bellowed out my nickname across a busy airport.”

She smothered a laugh, trying to picture his disgruntled expression. “Oh dear. Did he get himself into a situation?”

“You could say that, yeah,” Ash said with a sigh. “It’s sorted now, though. How’s your crew doing?”

“Well, Danny decided to recruit some new people after we lost our fixer to a family crisis. The new one’s pretty good. Not the best I’ve ever seen, but good.”

“And do they have a name, this not-quite-the-best fixer?” 

She grinned, wishing she could see his face. “They do, and you’ll never guess what it is.”

“What?”

“Ashley.”

“You’re joking.” The smile was evident in his voice. “So he’s well and truly replaced me. Flamin’ cheek.”

“Well, this Ashley is a girl, so I wouldn’t worry too much.” 

“Of course she’s a girl,” Ash said wearily, sounding thoroughly unsurprised. “And the other one?”

“Also a girl,” Stacy reported, prompting a chuckle. “Danny hired them in the hope that there’d be some hooking up.”

“And was there?”

“There was. They hooked up with each other.”

Ash laughed, and she smiled to hear it. “Poor Danny, never quite goes as he ‘opes, does it?”

“No, but he’ll bounce back. He’s already got a date with our hotel receptionist.” They both laughed again, and Stacie changed the subject. “Speaking of hooking up, how are Mickey and Emma?”

“Well, they established some ground rules pretty early on, deciding they weren’t going to get involved while they were working together.”

“Sounds familiar,” Stacie couldn’t help commenting. 

“Yeah, well, they’ve spent most of the time since then regretting it.”

She smiled to herself, even as she felt a pang of sympathy for Mickey. She knew exactly how he felt, after all. “What does she look like? I can’t believe I’ve never thought to ask.”

Ash was smiling again, she could hear it in his voice. “Funny you should mention it. We just pulled off a con selling a fake Kylie Minogue gig. Ems played a blinder.”

Stacie laughed, shaking her head. “Mickey did always have a thing for Kylie. I hope that’s not the only reason he likes her.”

“Nah, it’s not. They’re well-suited, both sharp as tacks. And she doesn’t put up with any of his crap.”

“That’s encouraging. He needs that.” 

“Yeah, don’t he just? Now if only Danny could find the same.” 

She grinned, wondering if such a woman existed. “I’d pay good money to see that.” 

* * *

_2010._

“Is this a bad time?” 

“No, no,” he assured her, and she could tell he was in the middle of developing something. No doubt some smart gadget or other. “Just figuring out how to make an electromagnet capable of holding a young woman’s weight.”

“Oh, is that all?” 

“Yeah. You?”

“Danny’s out collecting five-hundred thousand dollars from the mark as we speak,” she reported, kicking off her shoes and falling back on her bed. 

“Very nice. Bugger.”

She heard something clatter. 

“You okay?”

“Yep, just dropped me screwdriver.”

“I should leave you to it,” she said, although she was hesitant to hang up. They didn’t speak all that often, and she missed him. 

“No, no, don’t go. I’m good. I don’t wanna think too ‘ard about what I’m trying to achieve anyway.”

Something in his voice made her frown. “Why, what’s happened?”

“Oh nothing. Just some minor trouble from MI-6, that’s all.”

Stacie sat upright in alarm. “MI-6? Tell me you’re joking.”

“Wish I was. Don’t worry, though. Mickey’s got a plan.” 

She spoke the last four words along with him, and they both laughed. Stacie picked at a loose thread on her trousers, suddenly desperately homesick. 

“I miss you,” she said.

“Miss you too, darling,” he replied at once, and she smiled. She knew the endearment was casual. He’d called her that for years. But that didn’t mean it didn’t warm her heart to hear it. 

“This was your idea,” she reminded him. 

“I know.” 

Annoyingly, he didn’t elaborate, and she couldn’t tell from voice alone whether he was regretting it or not. Until she picked up clearer signs, she wasn’t returning to London. She needed to be sure before she put her heart before him again. 

“I’ll let you get back to work,” she spoke up. “You need to focus if you’ve got MI-6 on your tail. Just…message me when you’re all clear, okay?”

“Yeah, course.”

* * *

_2011._

“What’s the matter? You don’t sound…quite yourself, somehow.”

Ash sighed, leaning against the window as he peered out over London’s night lights. His favourite place to be to talk to Stacie. 

“I’m fine,” he assured her. It was true and it wasn’t. 

“Maybe, but there’s definitely something bothering you.”

He smiled. She sounded so sure, and of course she was right. 

“I’m worried about Albert,” he confessed. “He’s…slowing down. He’d hate it if he ‘eard me say that, but…I see it.”

“Well, he is…actually, I’m not sure _how_ old he is,” Stacie admitted, and he chuckled. “But anyway, he’s not getting any younger. Maybe he’s just being sensible.”

“Maybe, but I don’t just mean physically. His heart’s not in the job in the way it used to be. I’ve felt that for a while, but I only got the story out of him the other day.”

“What story?”

“A few weeks ago his daughter came to see him.”

“Albie has a daughter?” Stacie said incredulously. “He never said.”

“He didn’t know,” Ash told her, watching a flickering blue police light chase some poor sod along a road below. “She turned up out of the blue with her mother, wanting to meet him. They got along really well, he took her to one of the casinos and showed her a slice of our world. He was supposed to see her before she got a flight back to the states, only we were all playing poker at Eddie’s and he lost track of the time. He missed seeing her, and she never left contact details. He blames himself for being the disappointment her mother warned her he would be.” 

“Poor Albie, that’s awful. Surely we can track her down. I know you could do it, Ash. You could find anyone.” 

He managed a little smile at her praise. “Maybe, but I don’t know if he’d want me to. I tracked someone down for him before and I never really knew if he was grateful. Could be he thinks she’s better off without him.”

“Yeah, but he’d be wrong. I think we should do it,” she declared, taking on the determined tone of voice that he was so familiar with. “See if you can track her. I’m on the right side of the pond, I can go and see her.” 

“Stace, I don’t know. It’s really hit him ‘ard, although he’s going through the motions like a pro.” 

“We should at least give him the choice.” 

He sighed, debating the matter. “Maybe.” 

Truth be told, it wasn’t just Albert who was going through the motions. Mickey seemed…tired. Ash wouldn’t be surprised if he called for a break soon. And as for Ash himself…somehow he hadn’t expected to feel Stacie’s absence quite so much. The crew he was in was great. He loved them all like family, and Sean and Emma had fitted into the group perfectly. He liked working with them all, and was, on the surface, happy. But despite all that, nothing had felt quite right since Stacie had left. He missed Danny and Billy too, of course, but Stacie was something else. Stacie had always been something else. 

_Are you coming home yet?_ he wanted to ask, but what he said was, “I’ll let you know if I find anything.” 

“Okay.” 

_Coward._

* * *

_2012._

Stacie glanced at her watch, wondering when the best time to call would be. For the best part of three years, they’d managed several precious conversations that had made staying apart feel somewhat bearable. It wasn’t that she didn’t like working in Danny’s crew. He’d been distracted lately with Cheryl, a cocktail waitress he’d seemingly fallen head over heels for, but he’d shaped up to be a fine leader, and Billy, Ashley and Sarah were all brilliant grifters. They’d built something great, it couldn’t be denied. Yet her heart ached for London. 

“Why don’t you go back?” 

She blinked out of her deep thoughts, focusing on Billy, who had appeared on the sofa nearby with a bowl of cereal. 

“What?”

“You miss him, yeah?” he clarified. “Why don’t you go back? It’s been, like, three years. You must have figured out what you needed to figure out by now.”

Stacie quirked a tiny smile, proud of how perceptive he’d become. He’d known her secret a long time, and had kept it faithfully with no questions asked. 

“I will,” she told him. “It’s almost time. I just…I need to be sure of something first.”

“I fink you’re afraid,” he stated matter-of-factly, mouth full. “Pretty sure you don’t need to be.”

“Thanks, Billy. I hope you’re right.” 

“Why don’t you call him and find out?” he shot her a cheeky grin. 

She smiled at his infectious expression, getting to her feet. “You know what? I think I will.” 

He reached for the TV remote, waving her away, and she retreated to her bedroom. Door firmly closed on the rest of the suite, she pressed her phone to her ear and listened to the familiar English dial tone. 

“Hello,” he answered warmly. 

An immediate grin spread across her face. “Hi. How are things?”

“It’s, uh, been interesting, yeah.”

“Interesting?” she repeated. “How so?”

He gave her a rundown of their latest cons, and she quickly latched on to the one that sounded the craziest: the one that had, at a crucial point, involved him being hung upside-down from a warehouse ceiling until Emma and Sean had arrived to rescue him. 

“Wait, you did what?” Stacie asked, needing further clarification as he wrapped up the story.

“Ended up shouting at ‘em,” Ash said modestly. 

“You shouted at two gangs of mobsters? Do you have a death wish?” 

“Oh, it was impressive, Stace. You should have heard my speech. It was my finest piece of waffle.”

She sat down on her bed, shaking her head incredulously. “You’re bloody brilliant, Ash Morgan. Getting Mickey back in one piece when you didn’t even have the real painting. Amazing.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t ‘ave much choice, did I? Wish you could’ve seen it, though. Ems said it was a good speech.”

Stacie was biased, but she’d always thought he could pull a good speech out of thin air. “I have no doubts. Was she okay? It can’t have been easy, knowing Mickey was in danger like that.”

“She was fine, but that’s why I kept her with me. She’s smart back-up, and I didn’t want her off on her own, worrying about Mickey.”

She smiled. “You’re a softie.”

“Don’t tell anyone,” he said, and she laughed. 

“Promise. So what else is new?”

He was quiet for a moment, probably thinking. “I, uh, was thinking of going on a diet.”

Somehow, that hadn’t been what she was expecting to hear. “Oh. What’s brought that on?”

“Well, for this con we’re in the middle of…”

“Getting back at the people that made Carol ill,” she filled in, recalling his brief update.

“Right, well for that I’m part of the convincer. The Devilles have to see me lose a lot of weight in a short amount of time, so I’ve been wearing these fat suits. And, uh…well…Emma may have commented on how…well, how convincing it was. On me.” 

Stacie shook her head fondly. “Ash, you’re not a heavy man,” she said reassuringly. 

“I’m carrying a little more weight than I used to,” he told her. “I feel…I dunno. Older, I suppose. Saggier.” 

“Saggier? Ash…I don’t believe you’ve changed that much since I last saw you, and even if you had, it wouldn’t change who you _are_. I happen to be very fond of who you are. In case I hadn’t made myself clear.”

“Yeah, but…”

“No buts. If going on a diet would make you feel better in yourself, then go for it. Don’t do it because you think I won’t want you.” She came to a halt, gathering her courage and determination. “I’m coming back soon,” she announced. “I don’t know when exactly. When I feel brave enough, I suppose. But when I do – when you see me again – know that I’m coming back for you.” He was silent on the other end of the line, and she found herself faltering. “So, uh, if you could tell me in advance if you plan to reject me again, that would be…handy.” 

“I never rejected you, Stace,” he assured her. “I just…figured we had to be sure.” 

“And…are you sure now?” 

The question had to be asked, even if she was strangely afraid of the answer. 

“Ask me when you get ‘ere,” he said after a moment, voice warm, and she closed her eyes in gratitude. 

“I will.”


	4. Part Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Deep dive into the final episode of season 8. Scenes from the actual show plus some extra ones :)

**Part Four.**

_2012._

The news that Mickey was looking for a retirement fund did not surprise Ash as much as it would Sean and Emma. He’d noticed his old friend getting jaded for a while, and although he’d never discussed it with Albert, he was sure the roper had seen it too. They knew Mickey best, after all. Ash was willing to follow his lead in every job, and said as much, but he couldn’t deny that he was wary. Going against the mafia was one thing, but Madani Wasam was in a class of his own. Everything in him was screaming that they should steer away from such a mark, but he knew Mickey wouldn’t do it. He thrived for the challenge too much. Ash just held on to his faith that the great Mickey Bricks would be his usual brilliant self. 

That said, Ash was valued for his honesty, and he let Mickey know what he thought, even when the mark was due in their fake office at any moment. 

His phone chirped, and he answered it. “Yeah?”

“He’s here,” Sean’s voice said, “but he’s got some bird with him.”

“What bird?” Ash asked him, trying not to sigh wearily. The plan was too delicate for surprises, particularly unknown personnel. 

“I dunno. Fit.”

“Yeah, ‘fit’ doesn’t ‘elp, Sean. Any clues who she is, what she does?”

“She’s not wearing a bloody name tag, Ash,” Sean argued, starting to sound panicked. “Do I stall them?”

“No, no, it’s okay. Send them up.” He hung up and glanced between Mickey, Albert and Emma. “Positions.” 

Emma nodded and headed for the front desk. Before long, there came the sound of footsteps in the corridor, and Emma was cheerily greeting the mark and his party. Mickey started giving clear, vocal reassurances to Albert’s character right on cue as she approached. They looked up and froze. At Mickey’s uncharacteristic silence, Ash looked up too. His heart jolted, and he felt his coffee cup slip right out of his hand, crashing to the desk in front of him. 

Stacie stood at Wasam’s side, and she looked just as shocked. Ash swallowed hard, realising that her appearance wasn’t by design. She had returned to London, but hadn’t come to find him. And now she stood in the midst of very dangerous men. All his apprehension returned tenfold, but now he was afraid for her rather than himself. 

The best thing any of them could do was stay in character, and fortunately Ash was supposed to be in William Cole’s bad books. As Mickey yelled at him for the coffee spill, he retreated back to reception with Emma and Wasam’s henchmen, shoving his personal thoughts aside in order to concentrate on spinning his tale of job dissatisfaction to Wasam’s right-hand man, Barir. 

After Mickey had successfully pissed off one of the most volatile marks they’d ever had, Stacie left with Wasam’s party, shooting them an alarmed look as Wasam spat threats. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, Ash watched her get in the car, barely listening as Mickey quickly filled Emma in on who Stacie was. His phone vibrated, and he tugged it out of his pocket, reading the text. 

_Play it vague, I’ll explain everything later – S._

He closed his eyes briefly, troubled, and sighed. 

_You’d better have a good explanation, Stace,_ he thought to himself. 

* * *

Stacie tapped her foot, impatiently staring at the door. She’d hurried to Eddie’s as soon as she could, and had been greeted with genuine affection by the long-suffering barman. After a hug and a quick update, she’d settled into a booth to wait for the others. It was proving to be a long, painful interval. 

Finally, however, the familiar figures appeared in the door, and Mickey headed over wearing a grin. She leapt up to hug him, immediately teasing him about the look on his face, and kissed his cheek. She’d been pretty single-minded in her thoughts while planning her return, but she couldn’t deny that she’d missed him too.

Ash was right behind him, and she threw herself into his arms without over-analysing anything. There would be time to talk privately later. For now, she had to act natural. 

“Hello, darling,” he greeted her, and she felt her cheeks flush. “Long time.” 

Stacie just laughed, embarrassed by her schoolgirl reaction, and hurried over to greet Albert, who peered at her knowingly before wrapping her in a hug. 

“You look magnificent and you feel even better,” Albert teased her, and she sent him a mildly scolding look. 

“Stacie, this is Emma and Sean Kennedy,” Mickey introduced. 

“Hi,” Emma said, offering her a hand to shake. 

Stacie smiled at her, trying to tell her in a glance that her guarded tone was unnecessary. 

“Hello,” she said, shaking Sean’s hand. “Ash has told me all about you.” 

Ash’s smile widened as she risked sending him a glance, and she quickly turned her attention to Mickey.

“ _He_ called occasionally,” Stacie said pointedly, even if ‘occasionally’ was rather an understatement.

“Yeah, well,” Mickey said, uncomfortable. “I’m not good with small talk.”

“Yes, so I noticed,” she replied, her light tone letting him know that there were no hard feelings. 

“Where’s Danny?” Ash asked, even though he knew damned well. She’d updated him a mere month before. 

Still, for the benefit of the others, she relayed the story of Danny and the cocktail waitress…and the cocktail waitress’s husband. Ash raised his eyebrows at her as she told it, smirking at hearing her tell a story he’d already heard, no doubt. 

“Last I heard they were heading for Vegas,” she wrapped up. “Apparently Danny had a plan.” 

“Yeah, I’ll bet he did,” Mickey said. 

“Okay,” Ash spoke up, drawing her attention, “so how long you been back, why didn’t you tell us you were coming, and how long are you staying?”

She nearly faltered in the face of his justified questions. She deserved to be in the firing line, and she didn’t blame him, but still…she needed to deal with those topics privately. 

“A girl can’t answer that many questions without a drink,” she bluffed, stepping towards the bar. 

He smiled but said nothing, perhaps feeling that he’d punished her enough. 

The six of them lined up at the bar, catching each other up on everything they knew about Wasam. Stacie gave her honest opinions, which sounded an awful lot like warnings. When she’d approached him to work as a broker, she hadn’t known exactly what she was getting herself into. If she hadn’t run into Ash and Mickey when she had, she’d probably have considered walking away. But now…she wanted to hear the plan, particularly which part of it included getting Wasam so furious he’d barely spoken a word to anyone for a full ten minutes after leaving William Cole’s office. 

After he and Mickey explained the basics of the scam, Ash received a phone call, revealing his role in the convincer. He was playing the dissatisfied PA who would leak the boss’s secrets. It was a role that had been used time and time again, but Stacie felt a jolt of fear, unsure what Wasam would do to persuade him to part with his information. Spending time at the unpredictable man’s side had given her a healthy wariness for what he was capable of.

“He wants to meet in an hour,” Ash reported, hanging up. 

“Good,” Mickey said with a nod. “We’ll get a car, I’ll drive you. Best get changed.”

Ash nodded back to him, shooting Stacie a glance before leaving the bar. 

“Be careful,” she said to him, knowing he’d hear the edge of worry in her voice.

He actually winked at her. “Promise.”

She tempered her smile, sipping her drink, reminding herself yet _again_ that there would be time to talk later, when he got back. 

* * *

While Mickey and Ash were gone, the others took Stacie back to the penthouse, where she spent most of her time getting to know Sean and Emma. She was curious about them, not just because of Mickey’s admiration for Emma, but because she knew Ash had come to care deeply about both of them. Emma still seemed cautious of her, although her manner was friendly. Sean casually flirted, but it was nothing compared to some of the remarks she’d received from Danny over the years, and she brushed them off easily. He seemed nice enough, but she’d never liked younger men.

Despite the small talk, there was an air of tension over the room. They were all simply waiting for Ash and Mickey to return. When they did, it was with a disgruntled Mickey, and a bruised and bloodied Ash. 

“Oh my god, Ash!” Stacie leapt to her feet at the same time as the others, and hurried across to ease his battered form onto one of the barstools. “Do you have an ice pack?” she asked Sean, who responded by fishing it out of the freezer and handing it to her.

Emma quickly poured out a generous scotch, offering it with a supportive hand to Ash’s shoulder. Stacie wrapped the ice pack in a tea towel and pressed it to the lump swelling on his brow. 

Ash glanced between Emma on his right and Stacie on his left, and huffed a small laugh. “Blimey, I could get used to this.”

“Don’t joke,” Stacie scolded him. “What happened?”

“Nothing we didn’t expect,” Ash reported. “Couldn’t make it too easy for him, could I?”

“Yes, you could,” Mickey put in, pacing with an intensely thoughtful look on his face. “We knew he was a bully.”

“We’re exactly where we wanted to be,” Ash argued calmly, accepting the scotch from Emma. “And I’ll be fine. I’ve ‘ad worse.” He took a sip, hissing as the liquid hit his split lip. But he nodded his thanks to her, and she retreated with a pat to his shoulder. 

Stacie felt her phone vibrate, and she tugged it out of her pocket, reading the text. 

“Wasam’s car will pick me up at eight-thirty,” she reported. “So I think we can be pretty sure that he’ll be at your office as early as possible.”

“Good,” Mickey said. “So tomorrow he blackmails me. I cave and tell him we can set up for the following day. Then it’s all over.”

“You make it sound so simple,” Emma said with a sigh. 

“With enough planning, it will be.” 

While Emma went on to question his confidence, Stacie turned her attention back to Ash, gently lifting the ice pack to peer at the wound underneath it. 

“Swelling’s going down,” she told him. 

He looked up at her, meeting her gaze. “I’ll be fine,” he said quietly. 

She managed a brief imitation of a smile, struck by the gravity of the situation. A few years ago she’d have been teasing him once her initial worry passed, but she didn’t have the stomach for it. The thought of them messing with Wasam scared her, plain and simple. Stacie wasn’t used to that. She’d been scared by very little in her life. Perhaps it was just a side effect of getting older, grifting too long. 

“Ash…” she began, voice barely above a whisper. 

“Stacie?” 

Mickey caught her attention, and she accepted the lesson in patience. The group spent the evening chatting, with Mickey and Albert demanding all the gossip they’d missed, and then catching her up on things that Ash’s phone calls hadn’t covered. It was a pleasant evening, but Stacie found her attention divided; half of it focused on the conversation, half of it painfully aware of Ash on the other side of the room, and the very loud silence between them. Finally, however, Albert retired to bed, which kick-started everyone else’s movements. 

“Did you want to crash here?” Mickey asked her. “You could take my room if you want it.”

Stacie had her hotel room to go to, but the thought of going back there while everyone else was at the penthouse made her feel strangely lonely. 

“I’ll stay,” she told him, “but don’t give up your room. The sofa’s comfy, and I’m going to have to sneak out early anyway to get ready for Wasam.” 

Mickey was a gentleman, but also someone who knew better than to argue with her stubbornness. “If you’re sure.”

“I am, thanks. Good night.” 

A chorus of good nights floated back at her, and she watched Emma and Sean file out, followed by Mickey, who paused and turned.

“I’ll get you a blanket.”

“I’ll get it,” Ash spoke up, getting to his feet. “I need a glass of water and some painkillers anyway.”

Mickey handed over blanket responsibility with a nod, disappearing around the corner. There came the click of three doors closing, and she and Ash were finally alone. 

“Be right back,” Ash said before heading off. 

Stacie settled into the sofa cushions, then changed her mind and stood up, moving across the room on her socked feet to fetch two glasses of water. The group had shared a few bottles of wine over a takeaway, but she wanted to avoid further alcohol. They’d all need clear heads in the days to come. 

When Ash returned with an armful of fabric, she smiled her thanks, carrying the glasses over to the lounge section of the penthouse’s open-plan living area. He didn’t set the blanket down on the sofa, however, but carried it out to the glass-enclosed balcony that lined one side of the room. Curious, she followed him out, and he slid the door closed behind them, shutting them into the long, narrow room. 

“Privacy,” he explained succinctly.

“Oh.” 

Ash gestured her to a small sofa and she took a seat, taking in the impressive view of London at night. He joined her and threw the blanket across their knees, countering the chill that seeped in through the windows. Stacie smiled, handing him one of the glasses.

“Did you find painkillers?”

“I’ll take ‘em later. They make me drowsy.” 

“Are you very sore?”

“Sore enough,” he said matter-of-factly. “I couldn’t wear padding, they’d ‘ave seen right through that.”

“Oh, Ash.” 

“It’s the risks of the job, innit?” 

She couldn’t argue with that, although she hated it. She took a sip of her drink before setting it down on the floor, and studied him in the glow of London’s lights. He sensed her gaze at once, turning to meet it. 

“Seeing you again didn’t quite go as I planned,” she admitted. 

“I figured. You looked just as surprised as we were.”

“I was. I suppose it’s a testament to your work that I didn’t spot that William Cole wasn’t real.” 

“You would ‘ave if you’d seen the magazine we mocked up for Wasam.”

She chuckled faintly. “Did Mickey do his poster-boy smile?”

“Yeah, all teeth.” 

She laughed, then sobered, playing back their reunion in her mind. Mickey and Albert, masking their startled expressions superbly…Ash’s look of shock, the coffee slipping from his grasp…

_When you see me again, know that I’m coming back for you._

Her own words mocked her as she saw Ash take in her surprise at seeing him, saw the comprehension as he realised she hadn’t intended to. The well-hidden confusion and hurt that followed. And he’d had to wait most of a day for an explanation. 

“Ash, I…I didn’t intend to see you again like this, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t intend to eventually. I meant what I said on the phone.” 

His face relaxed a touch, but he hadn’t let his guard down entirely. “I wondered if you’d changed your mind.” The words were carefully casual. 

“No,” she said at once. “No, definitely not. I just…wanted to get a feel for London again before I found you, maybe make some extra money in the process. It was my way of acclimatising. I only landed four days ago.” 

Ash exhaled, seeming to expel some of the tension that he’d carried since they’d been reunited. “Well, you picked one ‘ell of a boss.” 

“I know. If I’d had more time, I could’ve done more research, but as it is…” She shrugged. “I think it was meant to happen this way. You need someone on the inside. The man’s mood swings are completely unpredictable.” 

“I don’t like it, Stace,” he stated. “You with ‘im and no back-up.”

“I can handle it. Besides, I don’t like what he did to you. I need to help you take him just for that.” 

“It’s just bruises.” 

“It’s the principle,” she argued. “You helped me get Jake, remember?”

He was silent for a while, face seemingly caught between puzzlement and laughter. “How is that the same?” he asked her, the amusement colouring his voice. “I would _never_ ‘ave married Wasam. Unless I was very, _very_ drunk.” 

“It’s not the marriage part that matters,” she retorted, playfully nudging his arm with hers. “It’s the ‘paying someone back for something bad they did’ part.”

He didn’t argue with her, but she sensed he didn’t see it in the same way she did. 

“I know neither of our marriages turned out how we expected,” she said, contemplating, “but at least yours was amicable.”

“June and I were lucky,” Ash commented, setting his glass on the floor then settling back with a brief wince of pain. “We got married at exactly the right time, and we got divorced at exactly the right time. Let us stay good friends.”

“She’s lucky to have you.”

“And you.”

She peered at him curiously, waiting for him to elaborate. 

“Well,” he explained, “without you lot, I’d never be able to pay her hospital bills.” 

“Oh. I hadn’t thought of it that way,” she admitted. “But you know we’d all chip in if need be.”

He assured her with a gentle smile. “I do know that. Thank you.” 

“I got married too quickly,” Stacie confessed to him. “I suppose I deserved the consequences of making such a huge decision so impulsively.”

“No,” Ash stated firmly. “You didn’t deserve what he did. Nobody would.”

“At least I got revenge. It helps. Does that make me a bad person?”

“No.” It was a short answer, but filled with conviction. If anyone could be said to truly believe in her, it was Ash. 

“Conning Jake…that’s when I first suspected,” she added softly.

“Suspected what?”

“That you cared for me. That maybe…there was something more in that caring than there used to be.”

His reply was quiet, but spoken without hesitation or fanfare. “You’d be right.”

Stacie reached for his hand, threading her fingers through his. He didn’t pull away. 

“I always hated him for what he did to you,” Ash went on. “You deserved better.” 

She shook her head, remembering everything he was pulling off behind the scenes while the rest of them were engrossed in the poker game. “You worked so hard on that one.”

“I ‘ad to.” 

“At first I wondered whether you’d all made a pact or something behind my back, but…I don’t know… Everyone did their best to help me get Jake, but you…it seemed more personal, somehow. Just something between you and me.” 

“It was personal for Mickey too,” Ash started to say.

“Yeah, but that was between him and Jake. They never did like each other.”

“Butting heads,” he finished for her, then sighed. “Yeah, that one was just between you and me.” 

“You were the only one who actually spoke to me about your doubts, too,” she added. “I appreciated you speaking up, even though I knew you didn’t believe me when I said I had my emotions under control. I don’t blame you for that.”

“Proved me wrong, though, didn’t you?” he said with a brief grin. He sobered again, saying, “I, uh…saw your wedding ring. I accidentally knocked your bag off the table and the box fell out. I couldn’t ‘elp wondering if you’d kept it for sentimental reasons.”

“No,” she assured him. “That’s not why I kept it. I kept it as a reminder…not to let myself fall into that trap again. Not to let my head get turned.” She squeezed his hand gently. “I don’t need it anymore. I got rid of it a long time ago.”

“Bottom of the river?” he guessed. 

“No. I sold it and donated the money to a shelter that helps women who’ve suffered domestic abuse. I know that’s not the same as what Jake did to me, but it made me feel better knowing that his money went to other wives who needed it.” 

Ash chuckled, resting his head on his hand as he glanced down at the view. They were silent for a while. Stacie stared out at the lights, considering her next words. 

“You’re the only one who…” She halted, starting again. “It’s weird, really. They’re all so similar. Jake, Mickey, Danny.”

“How d’you mean?”

“Well, we could only get to Jake because we set me up as a prize to be won. Mickey and Danny are great, they really are, but…sometimes, I think they used to see me that way too. Maybe not as…vindictively or blatantly as Jake, but still. You’re the only one who didn’t. I used to think it was because you didn’t feel the same way about me.”

In the window’s reflection, she saw him frown slightly, and turned to look, trying to get a read on his expression. 

“I don’t blame you for thinking that,” he said, eyes facing forward as he answered her truthfully. “Although, I gotta say, you’re doing me a disservice.”

“I know. I was an idiot.”

“No, no, no,” he protested, turning to meet her gaze. “Come on, Stace. You’re gorgeous, it’s only natural that people are gonna notice. The problem is when that’s _all_ they notice. Because there’s so much more to you than that. You’re intimidatingly sharp, you don’t suffer fools at _all_ , let alone gladly, and I’ve always been privileged to call you a friend.”

She smiled at his words, the simple, heartfelt truths reminding her that what she valued about _him_ , he also valued about her. 

“When I’d see you having to flaunt your beauty for mark after mark,” Ash went on earnestly, “I wanted to spare you being fawned over during your free time too.”

“I appreciate that,” Stacie told him. “Although…I don’t mind if it’s you.”

He smiled at her, although it soon gave way to a hint of concern. “It doesn’t bother you? That I’m so much older?”

She shook her head at once. “Fourteen years is nothing when two people connect. I’ve never cared, you should know that.” He opened his mouth to speak, and she hurriedly shut him down. “I won’t hear that as an argument against us.” 

He chuckled, squeezing her hand. “I wasn’t gonna argue. I’m done arguing with you.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“And truthfully…maybe I’m a selfish bastard, but…I don’t want to try changing your mind.”

“Oh, don’t worry. You wouldn’t have succeeded.” 

“I know,” he said, shooting her a smile. “So… _if_ …this is definitely what you want…”

“You know it is,” Stacie stated firmly. “But I want it to be what _you_ want too. You told me to ask you if you were sure, so…I’m asking. Are you?”

He nodded. “I’m sure. I can’t pretend to understand why you’d want me, but I’m bloody grateful that you do.” 

“You really _don’t_ understand, do you?” she said, feeling a twinge of sadness. “I have a counter question: why _wouldn’t_ I want someone caring and loyal, someone fiercely intelligent but modest, someone I can have a debate with, who makes me laugh, who has always looked out for me. Someone who looks damn good in a suit, who happens to have the prettiest eyes–”

“Pretty?” he interrupted incredulously.

Stacie laughed, but continued. “–that I’ve ever seen. Yes, why on earth would I possibly want _that_ guy?”

“Okay, okay,” he said, holding up a hand to stop her even as he joined in her laughter. “I believe you.” 

“About time.” 

“Come here.” 

He let go of her hand and lifted his arm. She immediately scooted closer, tucking herself up to his side, relishing the comforting weight of his arm around her. He brushed her hair back with his free hand, cupping her cheek, and she lifted her chin to press her lips to his, a feather-light kiss, mindful of his split lip. 

“Do I need to list all the reasons why I want you?” Ash asked her when they drew apart. 

“No, but if you want to, I won’t stop you,” she responded cheekily. 

He chuckled. Stacie pulled her feet up onto the sofa cushions, gently resting her head on his chest. 

“Is this okay?” she asked. “Not pressing on any bruises?”

“It’s perfect,” he replied, resting his cheek against the top of her head. 

* * *

The next thing she knew, daylight was poking at her eyelids, and she squinted at the rude beam of sunlight that had interrupted her sleep. She was disoriented for a split second, then it all came flooding back, and she carefully moved her head to peer up at Ash. He glanced down at her with a groggy smile, and she shifted into a sitting position, wincing at her stiff limbs. 

“Ow,” she muttered, stretching. “I don’t think this thing was designed for sleeping on.”

“No,” he agreed, pulling a pained face as he moved.

“I’m sorry, are you really sore? I shouldn’t have fallen asleep on you.”

“I’m fine,” he assured her. “I’ve got an easy day anyway. My character’s off sick, remember?” 

“Right. What time is it?” 

“6:40,” Ash reported, glancing at his watch. “Plenty of time for you to sneak out.” 

She smiled. “Yes, you should change your clothes or you’ll get a reputation.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” he said at once, making her laugh. “Who wouldn’t be proud of getting a reputation for lounging about with you?”

“Lounging about, is it?”

“So far,” he said, raising his eyebrows and shooting her a brazen smile. 

Stacie felt her cheeks grow warm, and searched for a way to get even. She settled on a sultry tone, saying, “I’ll hold you to that, Ash Morgan.”

He cleared his throat a touch awkwardly, and she smirked at her success. They both got to their feet, stretching, and Stacie turned to him with a more serious look.

“Let’s just keep this between us. Until the business with Wasam is over.”

He nodded at once. “Agreed.”

“I’ll see you after work, then.”

“Be safe.”

“I will.”

* * *

Stacie sat in the back seat of one of Wasam’s cars, her heart thumping wildly in her chest. She stared at the back of Barir’s head, reassured by the fact that he seemed to have no idea she’d pickpocketed him. Twice, technically. Barir was the perfect right-hand man: slightly more approachable than the boss, but having no qualms about carrying out violent orders. He’d been nothing but courteous to her, but he hadn’t seemed at all phased when given the task of calling a new enforcer for Wasam. 

Stacie knew what he meant by ‘enforcer’, of course. A more family-friendly term for hitman. That would have alarmed her in its own right, but knowing Wasam planned to use him on her friends, her family…it had turned her blood to ice. So, she’d picked Barir’s pocket, amended the phone number on the scrap of paper he’d been given, and replaced it, all in less than a minute. 

Settling back in her seat, she tugged her phone out of her handbag and sent a quick text. 

_You’ll be called by an unknown number. You’re a Ukrainian mercenary. Agree to the London job, I’ll explain everything later. Call me when you can – S._

Cradling her phone between her palms, she watched the scenery slip by, breathing deeply and evenly until her heartrate slowed to a more normal rate. Finally, the car pulled to a stop outside her hotel, and she unclicked her seatbelt. 

“We will pick you up at eight-thirty tomorrow morning,” Barir informed her before she opened the door. 

“Fine,” she said, pitching her tone the right balance between wary and resigned. “See you then.” 

He nodded to her in the rear-view mirror. Stacie tugged the door handle and stepped out onto the pavement. She walked towards the hotel, waiting until the car had been swallowed by the traffic. When she could no longer see it, she switched direction, starting the fifteen minute walk to the penthouse. The call came in as she was crossing the lobby, and she ducked into the nearest lift for privacy.

“Danny?”

“Why the bleedin’ ‘ell am I suddenly getting on a plane to England as a Ukrainian ‘itman?” 

Despite everything, she had to smile at his way with words. “I need your help. Mickey’s got himself in a bit of a situation.” 

“Course he ‘as. Can’t leave him alone for five minutes. Typical.” She heard him sigh, then held the phone away from her ear as he bellowed, “Taxi!” After some shuffling and a muffled, “Airport, mate, quick as you can,” he was back. “Right. Catch me up.” 

Stacie grinned. For all his complaining, he was on his way without knowing any details. Danny and Mickey may have been rivals, but there was no denying the deep respect and affection that lay beneath all that. She explained the situation as succinctly as possible, and by the time she’d reached the top floor, he was up to date and on board with the plan. 

“Right,” he finished up. “I’ll let you know when I land, then.” 

“Okay.”

“Wish me luck. Never tried to con me way onto a plane with no passport or ticket before.”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something,” she said with certainty. “Thanks, Danny.” 

“You don’t have to thank me. It’s what we do, innit?” 

“Yeah, it is. Have a good flight.” She hung up and returned her phone to her bag. 

She made her way to the tiny, private lift up to the penthouse, letting out a long, tired breath. When she got there, the group was waiting for her in the lounge, with the exception of Sean.

“Okay,” she announced, walking into the room. “Time to bail out.” 

She wanted to gauge their responses before revealing her back-up plan. Just that morning she’d seen Mickey endure threats and physical violence from Wasam without blinking an eye, and she needed to know that he wasn’t being foolhardy. 

“You what?” Ash said with a frown. 

“He wants me to learn how to program the machine so that he can have you killed.”

“Well, that’s kind of what we expected,” Mickey said, and she frowned. 

“He told Barir to call the enforcer, and whatever you do, he’s not going to let you out of his sight.”

Mickey nodded in acknowledgement. “I know.”

Stacie placed a hand on her hip, concerned with his cavalier attitude. “From tomorrow morning he’ll have two of his guards on you full time.”

Ash glanced up at her, seeming to sense that there was more behind her words. Thankfully, he said nothing. 

“Even if you pull this off, you’ll never get away clean,” she finished. 

Before Mickey could answer, Sean emerged from his room, talking enthusiastically. “This. Is. Wicked! Without a doubt, this is one of the coolest things I’ve ever tried on.”

Stacie pivoted to look at him, taking in the peculiar one-piece suit he was wearing. It fit skin-tight, and resembled a wetsuit. She immediately grasped what it meant, and part of her concern dissipated. 

“I actually look like I could swim faster than a shark!” Sean declared happily before looking up and seeing her there. “All right, Stace?” he said with forced casualness.

“Hi,” she said coolly, maintaining her poker face.

“Just for the record,” he told her solemnly, “this isn’t an accurate representation of my underwear.”

She looked him up and down before bestowing a faint, “Hmph.” Turning away, she shot Ash an amused glance. “Pleased to hear it,” she said, looking back at the embarrassed young man. 

He backed away and retreated, and she huffed a laugh. 

“He’s got issues from when he was a baby,” Emma informed her in a stage-whisper. 

“I do not have issues!” Sean yelled in defence, shutting his door. 

The light moment ended with his exit, and Stacey walked over to take a seat. “Mickey,” she said gravely, picking up the topic, “I don’t like it. It feels wrong.”

“What about the money?” Mickey asked her. 

Dutifully, she answered the question. “He’s having it transferred first thing tomorrow morning before the markets open. He’s also bringing five-hundred thousand in cash, which is your commission if you double him up.” 

Mickey nodded, but his focus was on something he was writing. He glanced up only to say, “Okay.”

Stacie felt her patience waver. “I tell you someone’s planning to have you killed and all you say is ‘okay’?”

Emma met her gaze briefly, and Stacie got the impression that part of her was in agreement. She kept her silence, however. Ash did likewise, although she could feel his glances. 

“You’re taking ten million from this man, Mickey,” Stacie added. “He’s not just going to put it down to experience and walk away.”

Sean joined them, silent and fully dressed, sitting down next to his sister. 

“I know Wasam won’t just walk away,” Mickey said to them all. “Which is why it’s a good reason for us all to…lay low for a bit.”

The group exchanged glances. No one looked pleased by the idea. 

“So I was thinking,” Mickey went on, “when this job is done we should…take a break. Go our separate ways for a while.”

“How long’s a while?” Emma asked him at once. 

“Who knows? I thought it best not to make plans.”

Emma stared at him, and Stacie felt a pang of sympathy as she took in the blonde’s worried face. 

“I was gonna…talk to you about this when the job was done,” Mickey admitted, “but seems now is as good a time as any.”

“So that’s why we’re taking this job,” Emma clarified, “it’s walking away money.”

“If you want to call it that.”

“So that’s it then?” Sean spoke up, sounding upset. “One last job and we’re finished, huh?”

Stacie exchanged a glance with Ash. He looked pensive, but not as concerned as the others. He always had been sharper than people gave him credit for. 

“I’ve always thought it was a good idea to quit while you’re ahead,” he commented. “I think ten million qualifies as being ahead.” 

“This is the question,” said Albert, whose silences and words were always significant. “If you didn’t take this break would you still do the job?”

Mickey took his time in replying, getting to his feet and pacing a little. “If I’m honest,” he said at length, “no I wouldn’t. And I wouldn’t blame any one of you who wanted to walk away right now. But come on!” A smile graced his face. “The money comes in tomorrow. Our play is that the city of London police have had us under surveillance. Ash has already lined up a dozen grifters and all the vehicles. We get ourselves arrested, but we let Wasam get away. He’ll run straight to the airport, desperate to leave the country. He’ll think the money’s been impounded, there’s nothing to keep him here, whereas we, on the other hand, will cash in and be long gone by the time the dust settles.”

Stacie rested her head on her hand, finally understanding his angle. It was his big speech, where he tested their loyalty. She’d seen them before, she even knew why he did it, but still…she’d have been happier if he shared his entire plan from the word go. 

Everyone exchanged looks again, and she saw that some of the anxiety had lifted, but not all. 

“It will work,” Mickey insisted, meeting her gaze. “Trust me.” 

“I trust you, Mickey,” she told him honestly. “We all do.”

“None of us would be here if we didn’t,” Albert added. 

Stacie nodded, but she had more to say. “But this isn’t one of those times when you can hold back information on us. It’s not like the diamond heist where the risks were the same whether we were grifting or stealing. This is our lives that we could potentially lose.”

“Not yours, Stace,” Sean put in helpfully. “Wasam thinks you’re working for him, so you’d survive.”

“Yes, thank you, Sean,” Emma muttered. 

“What’s your point, Stace?” Ash prompted her gently. 

“My point is, you obviously have a plan B,” she said, looking directly at Mickey. “You’re suiting up in…whatever that was that Sean was modelling, so you’re clearly planning on being shot with blanks. But frankly I have no idea what your plan B _is_ , and I wasn’t prepared to place all my faith in the unknown, not this time.”

Mickey looked a touch chastened by her words, but didn’t interrupt. 

“So, I put a back-up plan of my own in place.”

Ash let out a quiet chuckle, and she looked at him. 

“Of course you did,” he said, the phrase underlined with warmth and pride. 

“What back-up plan?” Mickey asked her, and she spotted a tiny frown creasing his brow. He wasn’t a fan of having control taken from him, she knew that. Still, it had definitely been necessary. 

“When Barir was ordered to call the enforcer, I altered the details a little bit.”

“What details?” Emma asked. 

“The number.”

Emma’s face took on a smile, and she heard Ash and Albert laugh. 

“Wait, so who’s he called instead?” Sean asked.

Stacie met Mickey’s gaze and smiled reassuringly at him. “Danny.”

“Who’s Danny?” said Sean. 

Mickey shook his head, but he was smiling. “That’s brilliant,” he admitted after a moment’s pause. 

“So what _was_ your plan?” Stacie asked him, folding her arms. 

“We were going to get shot by the police, but having Wasam see his enforcer do it will work so much better. He’ll definitely believe we’re dead if he thinks he orchestrated it himself.” 

“You’re welcome,” she said emphatically. She looked over at Ash. “Told you being on the inside would be beneficial.” 

His smile widened. “Remind me never to doubt you again.” 

“Okay,” Mickey spoke up, demanding their attention. “New plan.”


	5. Part Five

**Part Five.**

The group spent another evening holed up in the penthouse, eating takeaway food and finalising details. Mickey retreated to the balcony to think, and Ash wasn’t at all surprised when Emma drifted out to join him. He watched them talk for a while, then glanced at Stacie. She had noticed too, and she smiled at him. When she stood up to go to the kitchen, he followed, speaking to her in a low voice. 

“Not feeling possessive, are you?”

She sent him a puzzled look, rinsing her wine glass. “Of Mickey?”

“No, the sofa. They’re in our spot.” 

“Oh.” She let out a little chuckle. “I think that’s a conversation they need to have, so I’ll let them off. I was thinking of heading back to my hotel, actually. I need to pack.” 

He nodded, although he was loath to part from her. It was getting late, though, and Albert was starting to doze on the sofa. 

“Come with me?” 

The question was so softly spoken, for a moment he thought he’d made it up. But her dark eyes were clear and earnest, awaiting his reply. 

“We’re gonna be fine tomorrow, Stace,” he reassured her quietly. “Danny’ll have our backs. This isn’t our last night on Earth.”

“That’s not…” she began in an irritated hiss, before taking a quick look at the others and lowering her voice further. “That’s not why I asked. But since you mention it, if something _did_ go wrong tomorrow, this is how I’d want to spend our last night.” 

Ash truly believed that they had enough planning behind them to ensure that they’d come out on top, but even still…it would be scary as hell, and there was always an element of uncertainty. They’d pulled off the impossible before. They just had to do it one final time. And in the meantime, the woman he loved, the woman he’d waited years for, was inviting him back to her hotel room. 

“Okay,” he said, unable to help smiling at the way her eyes flicked to his in anticipation. He hoped she wouldn’t be disappointed. He knew he was probably past his best. Still, Stacie didn’t believe that, and he suspected she’d have some sharp words to share if she knew where his thoughts were leading him. 

“Okay,” she repeated, returning the smile. 

She crossed the room to pick up her handbag, jolting Albert awake. 

“I’m going to head back,” she announced to the room. “Ash said he’d walk me.” 

“Yeah, well, I could do with some fresh air,” he commented. 

“Yeah, we all know the kind of fresh air you like, Ash,” Sean ribbed him, miming smoking a cigarette. 

“Oi, you cheeky sod, I haven’t smoked in weeks.”

“What, you gave up?” Sean said, brow furrowed. 

Ash shrugged on his jacket, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “You didn’t even notice, did you? Honestly, it’s like you don’t even care that I have a life outside of this crew.”

“Do you?” Emma gasped with heavy sarcasm, giving way to a fond smile.

“Get to bed, Albie,” Stacie said, patting Albert’s arm. “You look shattered.”

“I’m going, my dear, I’m going.” 

“We should all get some sleep,” Mickey said, appearing in the doorway. “Big day tomorrow.”

“Understatement,” Sean muttered. 

“So,” Stacie began, walking a little way away and folding her arms. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

Mickey nodded to her. “Tomorrow.” 

Stacie nodded back, throwing him a small smile before saying good night to the group. They all responded, then started talking amongst themselves as they prepared to retire to their rooms. Ash followed Stacie to the door, and they left the chatter behind them. 

“Do you think they suspect?” 

Ash turned to her, considering his answer to the valid question. “Does it matter?”

“No, but it’s nice to think that we could fool them. Especially Mickey.”

“Nah, it’s Albert we’d have to watch out for,” he said. “Speaking of, did you manage to sort his present?”

“I did,” she confirmed. “I’ve got his daughter’s contact details ready to go. Thought I’d wait until all this was over, though.” 

“Yeah, good idea.” 

They took a slow walk to Stacie’s hotel, happy just being together and talking. Mickey was probably right, they _should_ get some sleep, but Ash felt wide awake, his skin thrumming with an energy he hadn’t felt in a long time. From the little looks Stacie kept sending him, he surmised that she felt the same. When he cornered her in the lift up to her room, she laughed, pressing light kisses to his injured lip. It was considerate of her, but not what he needed. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her properly, ignoring the flare of pain in favour of enjoying the way she melted into him. 

Safely alone in her room, he quashed his anxiety as she tugged at his shirt, reminding himself that she would want all of him, even the parts he was a little self-conscious about. 

“Oh, Ash…”

He followed her gaze down, taking in the mass of bruises, a colourful mixture of stormy purple and sickly yellow peppering his torso.

“It’s not so bad,” he assured her. 

She traced her fingers over them, her expression sympathetic. “I’ll be gentle with you,” she said, a spark of mischief chasing away the compassion.

He raised his eyebrows, amused. “Will you, now?”

“Perhaps.”

He pulled her close again, happy to note that she was no longer so cautious with her kisses. 

“I love you, Stace,” he said when they parted. “We’ve talked about a lot since you got back, but somehow I forgot the most important thing.”

She looked up at him, wearing the happiest, most beautiful smile he’d ever seen on her. “I love you too,” she responded at once. “I’m so glad we finally made it here.”

“Me too. Took us long enough.”

“Yes,” she agreed, “so let’s not waste any more time.” 

He slid his hands through the glossy strands of her hair, studying her face and wondering what he’d done to deserve someone like her. Someone somewhere must be pleased with him. He couldn’t be more grateful. 

* * *

It was well into the early hours of the morning, but neither Ash nor Stacie felt inclined to sleep, regardless of their new relationship. Thinking about the sting that was to happen that day was simply too nerve-wracking. Instead, they talked, sometimes dozed, sometimes more. 

Stacie rested her head on his shoulder, tracing a path between the bruises on his chest with her fingertips. 

“It was the limo that started all this for you, wasn’t it?” Ash spoke up, breaking the peaceful silence. 

“Mm?”

“The Hollywood job,” he clarified. “Us posing in the back of the limo.”

“Oh. Sort of.”

“Sort of?”

“The limo was when I realised my attraction to you wasn’t just harmless admiration,” she confessed. “When you kissed my neck…it was very distracting. I’ve always been sensitive there.”

“I know,” he said suggestively, and she giggled. 

“But it didn’t start there,” she continued. “It had gradually been creeping up on me for a while, only I’d chosen not to acknowledge it because of the colleagues thing. The limo just…forced me to confront it. And after that, I couldn’t stop. I’d teetered on the edge of falling for you for ages, even convinced myself that I’d found the perfect balance, but after that…I fell hard and fast, and never looked back.” 

“I didn’t acknowledge it at first either,” Ash told her. “I thought it would be for the best, and…truth be told, I thought if you ended up with any of us, it would be Mickey or Danny.”

“No. Mickey and I were close once, but we’re meant to be friends. When he first got the crew back together, there was…confusion, from both of us, I think. We weren’t sure if we wanted to be more or not.”

“Yeah, I know,” Ash said quietly. “I saw it.”

“I’m sorry,” Stacie felt compelled to say. “If you had feelings for me back then, I must have been awful to be around.” She didn’t like to remember how she’d acted. So bitchy and jealous, confused enough to toy with Mickey _and_ Danny, and completely oblivious to Ash, who’d been right there all along. 

“It wasn’t that bad,” he said, and she could tell it was the truth. “I always expected it to be one-sided anyway. You didn’t do anything wrong. I was more worried you’d get hurt. It seemed obvious that Mickey didn’t want to complicate things.” 

“No, he didn’t. When he finally got around to actually _talking_ to me about it, we both realised he was right.” She looked at him, her expression accusing but not in a malicious way. “You’re the one who pushed him into talking to me, aren’t you?”

“Eh?”

“You did. For ages I suspected it was Albert, but I’ve thought for a while now…it must have been you.”

“It might ‘ave been,” he admitted cagily. 

She sent him a smile. “Thanks.” It was such a small word to cover everything she needed it for. 

“And what about Danny?” Ash asked her. 

She fixed him with a stare, one eyebrow raised. “Why do you want to know?” 

“Morbid curiosity,” he fired back, and she laughed.

“Danny…Danny had a lot of growing up to do. I don’t think he even knew _how_ to fall in love.”

“You saying he knows now?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But you should have seen him with Cheryl, Ash. He was…different. More serious, but somehow…still Danny.”

“Cheryl? The cocktail waitress?”

“Yeah. Maybe she _is_ the one for him.” 

“Pity about the husband,” Ash said dryly. 

“I joked about it, but he’s a bastard. Doesn’t treat her well at all. She’ll be better off with Danny, if he’s really serious about her.” 

“I can’t imagine a serious Danny,” he remarked, stroking a soothing path up and down her spine. 

Stacie laughed, tilting her head back to look up at him. “It’s actually nice to see. Underneath all his bluster, he’s a good man.”

“Yeah, I know, but he’s the easiest person to wind up I’ve ever met.” 

They settled into an amused silence for a while, and Stacie contemplated the memories she’d surfaced. What she hadn’t mentioned – but what she wouldn’t be surprised if Ash knew anyway – was that for a very brief time, early on, Danny had convinced her to wonder ‘what if’. She’d kissed him, or more accurately, let him kiss _her_. It had been experimental, really, but an instant mistake. His words had led her to believe that for him, she was simply another means to compete with Mickey. Strangely, though, she hadn’t been offended, and had realised that she had very little interest in being anything but friends with Danny. 

She was weary of talking about her side of things, however, curious to get some answers out of Ash. “So when we were conning Winters and I had to kiss you, you’d already had feelings for me for a while?”

“More than that. And I knew a kiss would put it all in the open, and I wasn’t sure it would be a good idea. I’d suspected you felt something, but I wasn’t sure what, and I knew it hadn’t been as long for you as it had for me. I couldn’t face telling you how I felt in case you changed your mind a few months down the line. I knew you would never string me along,” he clarified, seeing her frown. “But…I suppose I felt…vulnerable.”

“It’s okay, I understand. And I think you were right, making us spend time apart. I hated it, but I needed it too, if that makes sense.”

“It makes sense. Didn’t quite expect it to be three years, though…”

“I’m not sure how that happened,” Stacie said, thinking back. “I certainly never intended to be away that long. I suppose I was scared.”

“Scared?”

“That I’d come back and you’d have changed your mind, or decided you didn’t feel that way about me after all.”

Ash seemed to consider her words for a lengthy moment. “Maybe we were both scared.”

“We’ve taken a huge leap outside of the crew dynamic,” Stacie pointed out. “A change that big _is_ scary. But I’m glad we found our courage.”

“So am I. In a few hours we’ll be free. And rich. We could do anything.”

She smiled at his tone of wonderment. “Let’s just focus on getting that far. We’re going to have to well and truly _earn_ this freedom.”

“If anyone can pull this off, Stace, it’s us.” 

She nodded, drawing even closer to him and resting her forehead against his cheek. They had time for themselves yet. 

* * *

The sounds of two mobile phone alarms jolted them from slumber a few hours later, and they each reached for their respective devices, muttering curses. Ash got up and dressed quickly, having an extensive mental to-do list, and needing to return to the penthouse. 

“You ready for this?” he asked Stacie, who perched on the edge of the mattress, swathed in the duvet. 

“As I’ll ever be, I suppose.” 

“And you’ve got everything you need?”

She nodded, trying for a reassuring smile, feeling it fall short. “I’ll be in place, don’t worry.” 

“I know what I promised you all those years ago…” he said. “That you wouldn’t ‘ave to watch me die again…”

“I know, but it can’t be helped. Don’t worry about it.” 

He kissed her forehead, then her lips. “I’ll see you when it’s over.”

“When it’s over,” she agreed, trying very hard not to feel like they should be saying a precautious goodbye, just in case it all went horribly wrong. “Ash…” she called out, as his hand touched the doorknob in preparation to leave. 

He looked back at her, nodding once. “I know, darling.” Then he was gone. 

* * *

_I’m all set._

With Danny’s reassuring text on her phone, Stacie had stepped into Wasam’s car that morning feeling relatively confident. The meeting with Mickey and Albert had gone as planned. Wasam’s money had transferred to them just as their police force had arrived, a startlingly convincing group of grifters armed with dogs that looked the part, and a whole armada of vehicles. 

Practically stepping between Wasam and Nick, the grifter playing the lead police officer, she offered the bag containing five-hundred thousand pounds as a bribe, securing their ‘freedom’. With the fake police turning a blind eye, Wasam’s party headed back to their cars. 

“I’m sorry I had to give your money away,” she said to Wasam, wary of his temper. “I figured it was the easiest way to get out clean.” 

He was not a large man, shorter than her when she wore heels, with expensive suits that didn’t quite fit his skinny frame. He made up for it in other ways. 

“It was a good plan,” he replied, as positive a response as she could expect. 

She sat anxiously in the car, unable to tell if he’d bought the false police raid or not. They’d have to assume not, to be safe. He probably still had people watching ‘William Cole’.

“You can drop me here,” she said. “I can walk, and you should be going.”

The car pulled up at the kerb, and she got out, trying not to look too eager. 

“You did well,” Wasam praised her offhandedly. 

“Just get on the plane before they change their mind,” she said, leaning down to the open window. 

She stepped back, watching the vehicle leave. If it turned right, it would be going to the airport. Left…who knew where. 

The traffic lights changed, and the indicator flickered on. Left. 

“Shit,” she whispered, hailing a cab. 

The hotel Mickey had picked out wasn’t far, but she was still anxious when she arrived. Forcing calmness, she sauntered past reception like she belonged there, and into the stairwell that was meant for emergency exits. 

She jogged all the way up six floors, slipping into the little maintenance room opposite the roof door and preparing herself for the most excruciating wait of her life. 

The noise alerted her before anything else. Multiple sets of footsteps, the panicked sound of familiar voices. One by one, Mickey’s crew passed her hiding place. She watched through the keyhole as they ran out onto the rooftop, halted and turned. 

Wasam and his men were close behind, fanning out to face them down. Stacie quietly eased the door open just as Danny was coming up the stairs. He was dressed in a long leather coat and black gloves, a baseball cap pulled down low on his face. His expression was grim, but he broke it long enough to raise his eyebrows at her before he exited, stalking up behind Wasam in an intimidating, confident stride. The automatic weapon in his hands looked alarmingly real. 

The crew all looked at each other, and she could feel the solidarity between them as if they truly were preparing to meet their deaths together. It tugged at her heart in a way she hadn’t quite expected. If it ever really _did_ come to this, this was exactly the way they’d go out, she knew it. Not one of them glanced at her, and there was nothing but fear on their faces when they looked at Danny. 

Mickey attempted a smile, managing a mere few words of bluster before Danny opened fire. The gun was horribly loud, but it covered the sound of Stacie stepping forward to the roof door. Following the movement of Danny’s arms as he aimed, she reached out and pressed the remote trigger five times, setting off five sets of fake blood packs hidden in their clothing. 

The group reacted with frightening realism, collapsing to the ground hard, even Albert, who should have been past such things. Mickey let go of the briefcase he was carrying, and it soared in a graceful arc before landing and springing open, sending banknotes fluttering across the roof like giant pieces of confetti. 

Stacie retreated back to the maintenance room, closing the door as quietly as she could. Wasam lingered for a moment, no doubt relishing in his victory over them, then quickly realised that a good portion of his money had floated down into the street. She heard him barking orders to his men as they all tripped down the stairs. 

A moment of stillness passed, broken by the sound of Danny’s voice. 

“Come on, then. Off your arses. Wakey, wakey.”

Stacie felt her face split in a grin, his jesting words draining her tension away. She left the maintenance room and pushed open the roof door, glad to see the others getting back on their feet.

“Honestly, eh?” Danny was still saying. “What would you lot do without me coming to bail you out of trouble all the time? I mean, it’s all right Mickey doing all that ‘look at me, I’m a clever bastard’ stuff, but when it comes down to it…just can’t do it without me, can you?”

Stacie nudged him, smiling. 

“Are you sure you couldn’t find anyone else?” Mickey asked her with false exasperation.

“Sorry,” she said, playing along.

“Hello,” Danny said, spotting Emma, “who’s this? Very pretty.”

Emma looked at him in disbelief, and Stacie met Ash’s gaze, reassuring herself that he really was unhurt. He winked at her, and she smiled. 

“Hello, sweetheart, I’m Danny. Danny Blue. Probably heard a lot about me.”

Stacie rolled her eyes, and Ash laughed. Emma’s expression declared that Danny was wasting his time, and Sean didn’t look too pleased either. Mickey started to laugh too, no doubt confident in Emma’s affection for him. 

There was a lot of noise coming from the street below, and the group risked a quick look over the wall. It would be a while before it was safe for them to leave, in any case. There was quite a crowd below, all doing their best to snatch up the money. Wasam and his men were among them, trying to take it back. It was quite a spectacle. 

“Did you, uh…did you throw it all over?” Sean asked. 

“Nah, fifty-grand or so,” Ash answered him nonchalantly. 

The police turned up right on cue, quickly grabbing those who were turning violent, Wasam included. Stacie doubted they’d be able to keep him for long, but it should be just long enough for them to get clean away.

“Did you call the police or are we just lucky?” she asked, leaning to look down the line at him. 

He raised an eyebrow at her. “What do you think?”

She grinned. “I think you’re one hell of a fixer.”

“Uh, now might be a good time to slip away,” Emma spoke up wisely. 

“I think that’s a fabulous idea,” Danny said suggestively, turning to look at her. “How about me and you, we just…slip away together?”

Stacie shot him an incredulous look, although she knew what he was doing. She’d given him brief updates on her phone calls to Ash, and he knew full well that Emma and Mickey had something. He just couldn’t resist winding Mickey up at every opportunity. 

“Oh, Danny, behave,” she scolded. 

“Hey, easy pal, that’s my sister,” Sean added. 

“Whoa,” Danny said. “Everybody’s a bit touchy, ain’t they? I didn’t have to use blanks, you know. I did think about it.” 

He shot Stacie a conspiratorial wink when she looked his way, then turned his attention to the opposite end of the line. 

“How you doing, Albie?”

“Pretty good, Danny, pretty good,” the roper reported, although he looked a little worse for wear. 

“I’m sorry I had to shoot you.”

Albert cleared his throat. “Don’t worry about it.” 

“I blame Mickey, he’s very theatrical.”

Stacie bit back a laugh at Mickey’s expression. 

“Someone shut him up, will they?” Ash lamented, drawing laughs. 

Danny, of course, would not be silenced. “It was a bit OTT, that’s all I’m saying.”

“We were still being watched, Danny,” Mickey defended. 

“Yeah, exactly. Always playing to the audience.”

Stacie sent Ash a grin, reading his expression and knowing his thoughts matched hers. _Just like the old days._

“Listen, listen, mate,” said Mickey, “when you’ve taken someone for ten million, the only way you can be sure they’re not coming after you is if they think you’re dead.” 

Danny’s eyes widened. “Ten million? Is this a good time to…talk about my cut?” 

“I think we’d better be going,” Mickey said, looking at his watch. “Time we should make a move. Everyone?” 

They backed away from the wall, retreating back down the stairs to the room that Sean and Emma had booked. There were bags and luggage everywhere, along with five undrunk glasses of champagne. 

“Glasses of bubbly, Mickey?” Stacie said disbelievingly. “Really?”

“Wasam’s men might have checked in here on their way up,” he explained. “It had to look and sound like we were celebrating prematurely. Let’s get changed and move out of here, everyone. Quickly. And stay away from the windows.” 

Stacie and Emma retreated to the bedroom to change, leaving the boys the main room. Emma scrubbed at the fake blood on her skin with a face wipe, her nose wrinkling. 

“How did it look?” she asked.

“Scarily real,” Stacie told her truthfully. 

“Good.”

Stacie quirked a small smile, turning away to shed her black ‘work’ clothes for a long-sleeved dress in her favourite shade of red. She knew men admired her in that colour, (including Jake, although she refused to let him spoil it for her), and she was hoping to impress one in particular. When she turned back around, Emma was zipping up a flattering dress in a shade of vibrant pink that Stacie would never have been able to pull off. 

“Mickey likes a woman in pink,” she commented. 

“I know,” Emma said with a smirk. “Albert told me.” 

Stacie laughed. “Bless his matchmaker heart.” 

When they emerged from the bedroom, the lounge was emptier, half the luggage gone and only Mickey and Albert remaining. 

“Ladies,” Albert said with a beaming smile, “you look like a bouquet of roses.” 

“Charmer,” Stacie declared, kissing his cheek. 

“Thank you, my dear.” 

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Albert,” Emma said, dropping a kiss on his other cheek. 

“I sure hope so.”

“The others have gone on ahead,” Mickey told them. “I thought it would be best to leave in smaller groups.”

Stacie nodded, seeing the sense in his words, but feeling Ash’s absence keenly. It was absurd, as she knew she’d see him as soon as they reached Eddie’s, but she felt it all the same. At least she had the company of good friends for the journey. 

* * *

“How about a little bet?”

Ash rolled his eyes at Danny. “We’ve only been ‘ere five minutes.”

“Yeah, but Eddie’s missed out on my bets for three years. Gotta catch up.”

“No way,” the barman declared, arms folded. “I’ve been better off since you’ve been away.”

“I can see that. I like what you’ve done with the place.” 

“He had help,” Ash said. “Bottle of champagne, Ed. Stick it on the slate.” 

“What about the others?”

“They won’t be long.” 

Sean turned to Danny. “So what’s this bet then?”

“Good man,” Danny said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Fifty quid says I can get a kiss out of Stacie.” 

Ash laughed, resting his folded arms on the bar. 

“No chance,” Eddie scoffed. 

“That’s very hurtful, Eddie,” Danny said, not sounding at all put off. “But if you’re so convinced, what’s the harm?”

Eddie glanced at Sean, then at Ash, who shook his head with a smile. 

“Yeah,” Eddie decided. “Yeah, all right. You’re on.”

“Good.”

“But she has to initiate it, like,” the barman went on. “It doesn’t count if you do it.”

“Yeah, yeah, agreed,” Danny said with a nod. “Sean?” 

The younger man looked thoughtful. “Sorry, no. You’ve been off in America with her for three years, yeah? Who’s to say you’re not secretly together?” 

Ash chuckled, liking his logic, even if he was way off. 

“Fair enough. Ash? What about you?”

Ash glanced at him, amused at his familiar, over-confident expression. “Fifty quid? Fine, you got a bet.” 

“Great. You’ll regret it.”

“Doubt it,” Ash couldn’t help saying. 

The sound of voices announced the arrival of the others, and Ash looked up to see Stacie, luminous in red. Her eyes sought his and she smiled. There was a chorus of mixed-up greetings, too many voices talking over each other, but soon they were all lined up at the bar and Eddie was pouring the champagne. 

“I’ve just had an amazing and original idea,” Danny announced, his eyes wide with the almost-manic gleam that his ideas usually sparked. 

“Gawd help us,” Ash muttered, looking down the bar where Stacie sat. Somehow they’d ended up at opposite ends of the line, and he was thinking up excuses to move closer. 

“Bear with me,” Danny ordered them all. “Right,” he pointed at them each in turn, counting under his breath. “There’s seven of us, right? We should hook up, start a new gang…maybe I’ll lead it…we’ll call it the Magnificent Seven.”

They all laughed, and Danny slung an arm around Albert’s shoulders. They’d joked in the past about Albert’s resemblance to one of the cast members in the old Western movie. 

“What d’you think, Albert?”

“I think that’s a hell of an idea,” Albert said, beaming, and Ash thought perhaps the old roper was being completely truthful. Albert was not the retiring type. 

“What about the Great Eight?” Eddie asked, gesturing to himself. 

They all toasted with their champagne. 

“The Great Eight!” Albert said. 

Carol entered the room, smiling to see the celebration. “Hi, all. I locked the door, Eddie. It’s just a private party now.”

“Come and get yourself a drink,” Mickey said. 

“Lovely.”

She slipped behind the bar to greet Eddie with a hug. 

“Blimey, Eddie, punching a bit above your weight, ain’t you?” Danny said with his usual subtlety. “Hello, darlin’. Danny Blue. Probably heard about me.” 

Carol looked at him with sharp eyes. “I have, yeah. And don’t you being saying nasty things to my man.” 

Eddie chuckled, putting an arm around her waist. “Oh, he’s all right really.” 

“Well done, Eddie,” Danny added with a grin. “You’ve done all right for yourself.” 

“Cheers.”

“Uh, I’m not a piece of real estate,” Carol protested, prodding Eddie in the ribs. “Greet me properly,” she said to him.

Eddie did as he was told, leaning down to kiss her. 

“Yes, great, Eddie,” said Danny. “Good to…lead by example. Anyone else want to have a little kiss? Stacie?” 

Ash laughed at his rather pathetic attempt. Stacie, however, looked downright rebellious. She stepped away from the bar, and eight pairs of eyes turned to watch her. 

“And that’s what you think I should be doing, is it, Danny?” she said.

“Well, kissing _is_ a recreational activity,” Danny said with interesting logic. “And we did just pull off the con of the century.”

“Excuse me,” Mickey interrupted. “ _Who_ just pulled off…?”

“Not now, Mickey, I’m conducting some very delicate business,” Danny cut him off. “You don’t fancy a little kiss, Stacie? Maybe with…I dunno…someone with dark blond hair and beautiful blue eyes?” He brushed a casual hand through his hair, which was a darker shade than it had been when he’d last been part of the crew. 

Ash couldn’t see Danny’s beautiful blue eyes from where he was sitting, but he could imagine the eager look in them. Amused, he waited to see what Stacie would do. 

“You know what?” she said in a deliberately flippant tone. “I do, actually.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” Slowly, she started walking, passing Albert, halting in front of Danny. “Someone with dark blond hair and beautiful blue eyes.” 

In that instant, Ash knew what she was planning, and fought to contain his smile. Everyone else watched her in stunned silence as she picked up her pace, walking past Danny, past Mickey, past Emma, past Sean until she stopped in front of Ash. He read the question in her dark eyes, and sent her a fraction of a nod. That was all the permission she required. She stepped into his arms and kissed him. 

There were probably exclamations of surprise or protest, but Ash didn’t hear any of it, tightening his arms around Stacie’s waist and enjoying her kiss. When they broke apart, a vast spectrum of expressions greeted them. Carol looked pleased, Eddie shocked, Albert smug. Sean seemed a mixture of irked and resigned, while Mickey and Emma looked surprised but happy. Danny was, strangely enough, grinning widely. 

“Right, Ash, me old mate,” he spoke up, “pay up.”

“You what?”

“You owe me fifty quid.”

Stacie looked at him in confusion, and he had no explanation. 

“The bet?” Danny prompted him. 

“Yeah, but…” Eddie began. 

“I said I could get a kiss out of Stacie,” Danny illuminated. “I never said who it would be with.” 

“You knew?” Stacie squeaked incredulously. “How long?”

“Ages. Didn’t take me long to figure out, what with three years of you moping about.”

“I did not mope about,” she protested.

“Yeah you did. Billy noticed it too. Ash…?”

“Yeah, yeah, all right,” Ash grumbled, letting go of Stacie to pluck a fifty pound note from his trouser pocket. “Here. You win.” 

“You lost the bet,” Danny said, his tone surprisingly sincere as he reached across to take it, “but I’m pretty sure you still won, mate.” 

“She’s not a prize,” Ash said defensively.

“Just this once,” Stacie murmured, pulling herself closer and resting her head on his shoulder.

He smiled down at her, then up at the others. “Oh, all right then. You know what, Danny? I think you might be right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: That's the end of that, just the epilogue to follow.
> 
> Kudos to Robert Glenister for his line delivery in the hotel room when they see Wasam's men arrive. There's no melodrama, no 'OMG they found us, how?' just the dead simple "Get out". It gives me chills! I had no place for that scene in this story, but I wanted to mention it here because it's awesome :)


	6. Part Six

**Epilogue.**

That night was the last time Eddie saw the grifters for a long while. He suspected something had changed when Mickey offered to pay the tab, (an offer that he refused, feeling that – despite all his complaining – if they paid up, it would seem like goodbye somehow). He knew something had changed when he discovered two bundles of fifty-pound notes stuffed in the tips jar. It was Eddie and Carol, however, who would bring everybody back together by inviting them to their wedding three years later. 

When the ten million had been divided up, (including a generous cut to Danny for not actually killing them), the grifters went their separate ways. Sean expressed an interest in joining Danny’s crew, and the two of them flew to Vegas to meet up with Cheryl the cocktail waitress. As much as he loved his sister, Sean was keen to make a name for himself out of her shadow. Danny’s crew proved to be the perfect place, and Sean found like-minded friends in Danny and Billy. 

Their first job as a team was to successfully con Cheryl’s husband out of his life savings, which they then offered back to him in return for his signature on the divorce papers. Danny requested a long engagement, which Cheryl agreed to. Danny needed to prove he was serious about her, and quite frankly the idea of marriage scared him a little. He would eventually decide that it was for him after all. 

Mickey and Emma took a holiday together, hitting Vegas to see Sean off, then retreating to Hawaii. It turned out to be the perfect place for them to finally spend some time alone, where they happily discovered that they were as well-suited as they’d suspected. 

Albert received his daughter’s contact details with surprise and gratitude, swallowing his pride enough to admit to being scared to see her. Ash and Stacie offered to accompany him, which he accepted. They stayed nearby for a week before realising that Albert didn’t need them, being far too busy teaching his grandsons every card trick he knew. Nobody was surprised when, several months later, he went to join Sean in Danny’s crew. Albert simply didn’t know how to retire.

After leaving Albert in the capable hands of his family, Ash and Stacie remained in America for a few weeks, touring various states in a rental car and taking the time to relax together. They soon returned to London, as Ash couldn’t leave June for too long, where they bought the kind of luxury apartment they usually scammed their way into. Stacie purchased her dream beach house in the Caribbean, ensuring that they had at least one holiday in the sun a year. 

They spent their time developing hobbies that had always fallen by the wayside, and running the occasional short con – just for practice. Above all else, they spent their time being happy together, with the others always easily contactable. When everybody gathered together for Eddie and Carol’s wedding, it was to discover that Ash and Stacie had quietly beaten them to the altar. 

With two failed marriages between them, (Stacie’s, of course, being far worse than Ash’s), they had been hesitant to go through it again, but both relented under a finely-crafted argument from June. It was a quiet ceremony, with only June and her carer as witnesses. They had had their days of being glamorous and flash. For their wedding, they wanted something real. 

It wasn’t long after Eddie and Carol tied the knot that Ash and Stacie received an invitation to Mickey and Emma’s ceremony. Ash suddenly found himself thrown back into something of a fixer role as best man, while Stacie accepted a position as a bridesmaid along with Carol. 

Stacie couldn’t help but marvel at how domestic they all were. During their years as a crew, she had never imagined leading a normal life. Part of her missed the art of the con, and always would, but she had other priorities now. Someone else could fill their shoes as the best long-con players in the business. 

During the reception, however, she realised that some of them would never change. She nudged Ash with her elbow, nodding her head in the direction she wanted him to look. He turned to see Albert attending the wrong party in the next room, chatting enthusiastically to a group of expensively-dressed, snooty-looking men. Ash chuckled, glancing back at her so they could share their amusement. 

“Can’t tame a roper in their natural habitat,” he said sagely. “Wanna dance?”

“Shouldn’t we keep an eye on Albie?” 

“Nah, he’ll be fine. Danny’s watching ‘im.” 

Stacie laughed. “Of course he is. Yes, let’s dance. It’s Mickey and Emma’s party, we should be focused on them.”

Ash led her onto the dance floor, where Mickey and Emma were rounding off their first dance. As they swayed together, Stacie felt obliged to report what she could see over his shoulder. 

“Danny’s talking to Sean. And now Mickey and Emma are heading over.”

“No,” Ash said at once. “Mick wouldn’t…not at his own wedding.”

Stacie smirked at him sceptically, and Ash rotated them so they could both see the impromptu meeting that seemed to be taking place at the edge of the dance floor. 

“We’re supposed to be retired,” he added.

“We are retired,” she reminded him. “They’re not bothering us…oh.”

Her words trailed off as Danny broke away from the group, awkwardly dancing his way through the crowd towards them. 

“All right?” he greeted them cheerily, shouting over the music. “Nice moves. Listen, Ash, me old mate…’ow long would it take for you to rustle up a treasure map?” 

Ash raised an eyebrow, meeting Stacie’s amused gaze. It was rare for grifters to retire, but it was possible. They were proof of that. Then again…

“Few days, maybe?”

Stacie shook her head, a fond smile aimed at her husband’s slightly-sheepish expression. It was difficult to give up a job you excelled at. She, on the other hand, had had quite enough of being a lure to unsavoury marks. 

‘Ow’s your Spanish accent, Stacie?” 

That said, parts of the job were just _fun._

She looked at Ash, taking in his smile, reading it perfectly. Partial retirement was good enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Because they deserve happy endings. Because I hate the thought that Albert never saw his daughter again. Because I also hate that after season four, everybody acts like Billy never existed!
> 
> If you read this story in a (seemingly) dead fandom, I hope you enjoyed it. Kind of feels like I've been talking to myself, so drop me a comment and let me know! :)


End file.
